


Uncharted Territory

by Cazadora



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Cullen, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Masturbation, Mutilation, Oral Sex, Rimming, graphic depiction of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 77,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazadora/pseuds/Cazadora
Summary: As he joins the Inquisitor's mission to free the Inquisition soldiers from the Avvar, Cullen begins to get closer to Trevelyan, making unexpected discoveries about him, but also about himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on Cullen’s original bisexual concept. Nonetheless, it starts with the idea that Cullen first rejected the Inquisitor back in Haven.

The night arrived colder and darker than Cullen had hoped for, but there wasn’t much else to expect from the Frostback Mountains and it's frozen atmosphere. He briefly let go of his horse’s rein to stretch his fingers under his gloves and then got his torch a bit closer to his face to catch some of it’s warmth. Behind him rode a group of tired Inquisition soldiers who had volunteered to search for their lost comrades in the marshy reaches of southern Ferelden. Cullen himself had offered his personal help, but he had never expected the Inquisitor to accept, let alone Josephine and Leliana to agree. He was grateful, though. In a way, he felt responsible for the men and women gone lost, but he also felt the relief of being away from the paperwork and reports for a time. And in the end, the week of searching concluded with the Inquisition finding their soldiers… and their captors, since, apparently, they had come across a group of Avvars that wasn’t willing to free them unless the Herald of Andraste himself showed up in a bog called the Fallow Mire. Cullen had tried to negotiate with their leader, but he had had no luck, and the search party wasn’t strong enough to defeat the avvars and the undead around the bog, so they were returning to Skyhold empty handed. The fate of his men was now entirely in Inquisitor Trevelyan’s hands, and the Commander was hoping he would take his time for this matter. He was a busy man, but he had always cared for the people behind and under him. He had proven that after Haven was attacked and destroyed by Corypheus and the Red Templars. Together with Cassandra, they had saved from the assault numerous villagers that were now safe at Skyhold, and he had also risked his life against the Elder One and his dragon to ensure the survival and escape of everyone else. That had earned the Inquisitor a lot of respect and even admiration from Cullen’s side, as well as from the Inquisition soldiers.

“We are close,” he told the party as the lights of Skyhold appeared behind the mountains. And from Skyhold they must had seen their torches too, because Cassandra was at the main gates to greet them. He came down of his horse and handed the torch to a guard, then walked towards the Seeker.

“Commander?”

“We know where they are,” he explained as they went up the stairs to the main hall, “but the people who took them won’t let them go unless Trevelyan goes to meet their leader himself.”

“That sounds like a trap…,” Cassandra sighed, “Leliana, Josephine and Allen are already waiting for you at the war room.”

“You won’t join us?”

“With you here, my duties as Commander are over,” she slightly smiled, making the scar on her cheek curve, “and I can’t say I’m not happy about it. Welcome back, Cullen.”

He nodded, he was too tired phisically and emotionally to even think of a reply. It had been a long and tough couple of weeks, and the headache was returning… but as he was opening the door to Josephine’s office, Cassandra stopped him.

“Wait… How are you?”

“On that aspect? Some time away helped,” he lied.

“That’s comforting to hear,” and she smiled again.

Cullen went past the office and straight into the war room, where Leliana and Josephine talked cheerfully with Allen. As soon as he entered, they went serious.

“Commander,” they all greeted.

“Welcome back,” Allen added then.

“Something wrong?”, he asked.

“Not at all. Wine?,” Josephine said as she offered him a tankard.

“So, did you find them?”, the Inquisitor asked after Cullen had taken a sip.

“Yes. A group of Avvars have them captive in the Fallow Mire. Their leader is some idiot named Hand of Korth. He will only answer to you.”

“He wants to speak with me?”

“I don’t think talking is what he wants…”

“The Avvars are people of belief,” the Nightingale said, “perhaps your claim as the Herald of Andraste offended them.”

“Or maybe this Hand of Korth simply wishes to defy the Inquisitor to be glorified.”

“Regardless of his purpose, we can’t abandon our men.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Cullen nodded.

“I’ll go meet him, we’ll show him better than to mess with the Inquisition.”

“I should have gone further, shouldn’t I?”

Allen furrowed his nose and then looked at Josephine and Leliana, “Ladies, mind leaving us the room?”

They both bowed and left. Then, the Inquisitor took a lion marker from the box and walked around the table to the south of the map, placing it over the Fallow Mire. He then spoke as he stared at the figure: “You are blaming yourself.”

“I am. I volunteered because I felt responsible, and I failed.”

Allen turned around and leaned on the table, “Your mission was to find them, and you did. There was nothing else you could do then. Attacking the Avvars would have resulted in deaths, maybe even yours, and there seems to be no reasoning with this man. This isn’t your fault.”

“I… apologize. You are right, the way back has been long. I guess I just need to close my eyes for a moment.”

“Don’t apologize. These are hard times, but don’t let me take more of your time. They must have already sent some dinner to your quarters. Eat and rest, you’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” he managed to make his lips curve into a grateful smile. Even that was hard to do now that he was at Skyhold and the tiredness began to weight even more on him. Allen gave him a gentle pat on the back and they both left the room, walking towards the main hall, but Cullen stopped upon reaching Josephine’s office to say goodnight, only to find she had already left. They continued their way out and the Commander noticed the Inquisitor didn’t leave to his quarters. Instead, he kept walking next to him.

“Going for some fresh air?,” he asked. Allen looked back at him with a somewhat satisfied smile.

“We have something for you.”

“F-For me?,” Cullen stuttered as the Inquisitor led the way through the library tower and the bridge that connected to his quarters. The Commander had no idea of what was going on, but he was certain that it was the reason why everyone he’d met since his arrival was acting up.

“After you,” the Inquisitor said, upon reaching the door.

Cullen opened it and the first thing he saw was Josephine, who stepped aside to let them in as she wrote some things on a list she was carrying.

“Commander, Inquisitor,” she spoke, “I doubled checked everything and it all seems to be in place.”

“What… do you mean?,” Cullen took a look around and then noticed some changes had been done to the room. There was more light, coming from a chandelier; a big and elegant chair behind his desk and a couch next to the right door. All the rubble had been removed and the ceiling seemed to have been reconstructed..

“Should you require anything else, do let me know. I shall retire now, good night, my Lords.”

Lady Montilyet performed an elegant bow that the men tried to imitate and then exited the tower with her usual sway and sweet smile.

“I did tell you I was getting your tower fixed,” Allen said when they were left alone, “I know you had a tough journey, so I hope this cheers you up a little bit.”

“I… you didn’t have to bother…”

The Inquisitor laughed cheerfully, “You had a hole in the ceiling, a tree sneaking in and a pile of broken planks all over the floor. You didn’t even have a chair!”

“I had a chair!”

“Right, that one in the corner that is full of books…”

Cullen couldn’t help but let out a timid laugh too. Since Haven, he hadn’t taken too much care of himself or the things around him. He had thrown himself into his work to forget, to avoid… He knew some people had noticed it… His sister, for example, had, as she expressed in her lattest letter, as well as Cassandra, who always had a furrow between her eyebrows when they spoke… But he never thought other people who didn’t really know him would care.

“So… is this why you all encouraged me to go with the search party?”

“Part of the reason, yes… I knew we wouldn’t get this to work while you were around, so I took the chance, and it worked. Also, you have some new things upstairs, I hope you like everything.”

“I… thank you…,” Cullen scratched the back of his neck, feeling completly overwhelmed. He discovered that that together with weariness wasn’t a good combination, but he was grateful for real, even if he couldn’t express it then.

“It’s the least we could do for our Commander, you deserve more than a wrecked place. Thanks to your quick response to the attack in Haven, a lot of lives were saved.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. At this moment that means a lot more than you can imagine.”

Allen kindly squeezed his arm with a comprehensive gesture and said: “Hey, you are too hard on yourself. Give yourself some more credit. And now, I’ll let you rest. Sleep well, Commander.”

 

Cullen couldn’t be sure of what moment of the day it was. He had slept so tight he woke up with no sense of time, all he could think was “damn, I missed this bed”. Although it now felt different, since there was no cold air running inside of the tower between the cracks in the rocks and the ceiling. It was much more comfortable now, he even had his own heater. He rolled over himself on the bed and laid facing the ceiling, gently caressing his chest as he got relaxed. At least, for a bit, he put everything aside, all his duties and concerns. And would have probably fallen asleep again if everything he had to do on that day hadn't come to his mind all of a sudden. He then realized it was probably late morning and he was still in bed, unprepared for his duties, so he got up and started getting into his armor. He was still getting his boots on when he heard someone knocking below.

“Yes? Just a second!”

“It’s Allen!,” he heard the man say behind the door.

“Shit…” Cullen whispered, then rising his voice he said: “Come in! I’ll be down in a second!”

He heard the Inquisitor come in and close the door behind him. He hurried and finished dressing up.

“I’m terribly sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said as he came down the ladder.

“Don’t worry, I’m glad we got this couch,” Trevelyan replied with a big smile, “So, I take it back, you do sleep!”

Cullen felt the sudden warmth on his cheeks and turned his face towards the window so he wouldn’t see him blush.

“I… apologize…”

“Don’t! I do, I didn’t mean to interrupt your rest, you deserve it. But I wanted to let you know I’m heading to the Fallow Mire with Cassandra, Dorian and Vivienne in an hour.”

“Oh! So soon? That’s good, I haven’t unpacked yet, so I’ll be ready in no time.”

“Wait, you want to come? You only arrived yesterday.”

“I want to kill that Hand of Korth myself. If I can’t, at least I want to see you put him down.”

The Inquisitor’s smile was now smaller, Cullen couldn’t tell if it was a worried or compassionate smile, if not both.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you falling sick out of tiredness.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m well rested. It’s our men we need to be worried about.”

“As you wish,” Allen nodded, then stood up, “Madame de Fer will be delighted to know she won’t have to step inside the bog. Daaaaaarling.”

Cullen couldn’t help but chuckle at the perfect imitation of the Enchantress, but soon coughed and got serious again.

“I’ll meet with you at the gates, then.”

 

“Ugh.”

Cassandra crossed her arms as she was forced to listen to Dorian and Vivienne trade insults with an annoyingly cheerful tone. Cullen, however, payed them no attention when he arrived to the courtyard.

“Commander, if you are looking for the Inquisitor he hasn’t come yet. He went to talk to Leliana before we departured,” the Seeker explained.

“Commander Cullen!,” Dorian said, “Come to report something? The condition of the horses? The weather, perhaps? Or are you here to wave us goodbye with a handkerchief as we leave?”

“None,” he replied.

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“Actually, he’s coming with us,” Allen said as he reached them. By the sweating on his forehead it was easy to guess that he had come running, “which means, you can stay out of this one, Vivienne.”

“My darling Commander, aren’t you a lifesaver? I will be delighted to give you my place in this expedition to play in the swamps.”

“What?,” the Altus protested, “I thought the whole charm of this journey was to see Vivienne in dirty stinky waters.”

“Do enjoy your swim, my dear, it will probably feel like home for you,” she smiled as she started to walk away from the group.

“Will do, I’ll pay attention to see if I can find your dignity around there.”

Cassandra and Allen both rolled their eyes with a sigh, which promted Cullen to ask if such exchanges were a common thing among both mages, and even Dorian said “yes”.

“Commander,” the Seeker said as he climbed onto his horse, the woman visibly worried, “are you sure about this?”

“I’m fine,” he said with simplicity, leaving her no other choice but to nod and get to her mount.

 

Traveling with the Inquisitor and the members of the Circle was far more entertaining and bearable than doing it with the soldiers, for they all had great stories to tell, and although Allen and Dorian were the better tellers, Cassandra did enjoy talking about their adventures too. She even seemed slightly excited when they told him about the time they faced a dragon in the Hinterlands. It only lasted for so long, since the Tevinter mage soon mocked the Pentaghast’s dragon hunters tradition. This made her frown again, but she did chuckle in the end. They were an odd group, but they seemed like friends. In a way, it made Cullen feel a bit of jealousy, but on the other hand, he now had the chance to be a part of that, at least for this once. Unofrtunately, he could only enjoy the thought for a little while, since soon his head began to feel dizzy again, the incoming pain making him grasp his reins even tighter and press his teeth strongly together,

“Wait,” Dorian suddenly said, “the Inquisitor and the Commander together, standing before danger. Now, how reckless is that?! What if this all went wrong and you both died? Do Cassandra and I get to be your successors? Imagine a Tevinter Altus as Inquisitor! Scandalous! Although I think you would make a very decent Commander! You’ve even proven yourself!”

“If something happened to us, there wouldn’t be enough Thedas for you two to run from Leliana,” Allen said with a chuckle.

“Yes, there is that. Cassandra and I would have to change our names, probably live as a poor farming marriage lost in the bogs of South Ferelden.”

“Do you always talk so much?,” Cullen heard himself say, regretting it immediately.

“Oh. Do you rather me shutting up?”

“No!… I… apologize…,“ but he knew it was too late, and he felt Cassandra’s eyes locked on him.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

Hearing this come from the Inquisitor and not the Seeker made him turn to the man, surprised. Did he know?

“I… yes, I just have a bit of a headache.”

“We can stop to rest for a while if you need so. You must still be tired from-”

“Nonesense!,” he disrupted him, relieved at the Inquisitor's assumption on his illness being due to his previous journey, “Besides, we won't take too long now.”

He went ahead of the group to avoid more conversation, but he knew Cassandra would bring it up later. He just hoped she wouldn’t tell Allen. Not yet, at least, because then it would probably get too real and he would have to face all of the consequences and risks. He wished then he had been able to lie about his headache a bit better, but he hadn’t expected the Inquisitor to notice his malaise. Specially since people always assumed it was just him being in a bad mood. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like the pain didn’t actually get him in a bad mood…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some graphic violence towards the end.

The sun probably hadn’t set yet, but it was something hard to guess with the dark and dense clouds covering the sky and shadowing the bog. It was like it was always night there, and the cold and humidity could go through the thickest robes and freeze your bones, as the Tevinter soon complained about.

“Humidity. And fields of mud. Ugh. Inquisitor…”

“Before you ask, It was for you, I brought you because I wouldn’t want you to miss the typical Ferelden weather,” Allen interrupted him with a smile.

“Now, now, aren’t you too kind to me… Now I understand why Commander Cullen is always wearing that hairy thing.”

“Pelt. I bet now you regret mocking it all the time,” Cullen responded, “you should use one.”

“Me? Wearing that? Perish the thought!”

“Why not?,” the Inquisitor asked, “I’d love to get under Cullen’s pelt right now, it looks quite warm and soft.”

The Commander found himself without a reply, but Cassandra spoke before he could even cough.

“Just imagine how this place gets at the height of summer.”

“I very much rather not, thank you,” the mage said.

“Let’s not wait for summer, then. Shall we?”

With those words, Allen began walking, following a stone path that soon disappeared in the water of the bog.

“Careful,” Cullen warned, “if you disturb the waters, undead will rise.”

“I’m starting to like this place!,” Dorian said, making the Inquisitor rise an eyebrow, “I truly do, I bet the villagers probably think it’s even haunted! Isn’t it the perfect place for a spooky novel? Dark waters, hordes of skeletons and demons, spirits… Not much room for smut though.”

“You read smut?”

“Do you, Lady Seeker?”

Cassandra replied with a disgusted noise and ended her part on the conversation, making Allen snort.

“You are from Ferelden, right?,” he then asked the Commander.

“I am, yes. This bog reminds me of a place from my past,” he replied, “but with less corpses.”

The Inquisitor chuckled and looked around, searching for an alternative path. He distinguished a rocky form in the middle of the midst and pointed towards it.

“What is that?”

“We believe it's some sort of beacon, but we haven’t been able to light them up. Every time we tried the fire would quickly die out.”

“Veilfire will do it, perhaps?,” the Altus asked.

“It’s worth trying, this place could use some light.”

They advanced, trying to keep as distant from the water as possible, and soon reached the beacon. Dorian elegantly moved his hands and casted the veilfire, that lit up the top of the structure, casting a light blue light. Seconds later, there was a wave of magic that expanded around them and into the water, causing corpses to rise.

“Get ready!,” Allen shouted as he prepared an arrow in his bow.

“Behind me, Inquisitor,” Cullen unsheathed his sword and shield and so did Cassandra. They both maintained their position, covering the mage and the rogue as they attacked the approaching undead with spells and arrows. When they were out of the water, both warriors went to meet them, greeting them with the sharp end of their swords. They would fall easily, but the big concern was in the amount of them that were emerging from the swamp. Luckily, Cassandra and Cullen never saw themselves surrounded, since the support of both Dorian and Allen kept them clear on their sides and back. Eventually, the waters went calm again.

“The beacons seem to draw the undead out of the water,” Cassandra pointed out, “We could make use of them to fight on dry land and gain the advantage.”

“Everyone keep an eye out for more, then,” Trevelyan nodded, “they could be useful to secure our way back.”

They continued their way through the misty marsh being as careful as possible, but from time to time a corpse would rise from the water and attack them, and that undead would make another three emerge. And more came back to life one more time when Dorian activated the second beacon, but this time they were well prepared and managed to take them down faster than the first time, making it safer to walk around the waters for a few meters. The downside was that it started to rain, and not a drizzle, but an actual storm.

“Alright,” Allen spoke, “it’s been a long day and the weather isn’t on our side. Shall we look for shelter and rest for the night?”

“There,” Cassandra pointed to a rickety wooden house on some sort of island in the middle of the lake.

“So we must decide if we want to have the rain falling on us or a rotting roof.”

“Come on, Dorian, we’ve camped in worse places… like next to that dragon nest, remember?”

“Or next to that bear cave,” the Seeker continued.

“Alright, fine, I get it! The putrid hut will do.”

They adventured themselves through the waters and began crossing the distance between the shores. They advanced carefully, since even though it wasn’t very deep they sometimes found irregularities in the bottom that could make them stumble.

“Ugh, I kicked something,” Cassandra said.

“And I think you sent it my way, because I felt something touching my ankle,” Dorian checked around the underwater soil with his foot, but found nothing.

“Wait, Cullen,” Allen turned to the man, “I read your report… you mentioned some of your men finding a… thing in the bog?”

The Commander frowned, confused, but then caught the Inquisitor’s gesture as his eyebrows briefly jumped.

“Oh… yes… an unknown… thing,” he lied, scratching his head.

“And you tell us this now?!,” the woman exclaimed, walking fast towards them.

“Don’t be so noisy!,” Allen hushed her.

“Hold, I saw something moving on the surface, for real,” Cullen stretched his neck and squinted, trying to see better in the dark. “Something emerged from the water and sank again.”

“Wait, are you serious?,” the Inquisitor frowned at his seriousness and the Commander gave him a hard look.

“We should get to that shore. Now.”

They all nodded and continued their way, although with a nervous pace that increased to the point where the four of them were running, splashing the water around and, lucky for them, avoiding any dips. Upon reaching the shore, they all turned to the water, finding it had all gone quiet and calm.

“What was that beast?,” Cassandra asked Cullen.

“Actually, that was meant to be a joke,” Allen confessed. “I didn’t expect us to see something… what was it?”

Cullen’s reply was a smile that then turned into a loud laughter.

“Maker’s breath, your faces of fear…,” he then pointed at Trevelyan. “Specially yours!”

“Commander?!,” the Seeker’s face was red of shame and rage.

“Wait, you doubled crossed me?!,” Trevelyan protested.

“You deserved it. And in my defense, it was his idea, so hit him.”

Cassandra slapped the Inquisitor’s arm with such force the man almost went face down into the marsh.

“Ow! That’s my rift-closing arm!”

He then laughed and the warrior found it hard not to join the two men. That’s when they realized the Tevinter was particularly quiet. Upon looking around, they discovered he had already entered the building and probably lit up a chimney, since a warm light was coming from the inside. They came in and saw that the interior was as damaged as the exterior. The wooden floor had soaked and swollen so much it ended up cracking. Only a corner at the back of the hut next to the chimney seemed dry enough to be somewhat comfortable, so the four of them dried their clothes in front of the fire and then sat close together in the corner.

“So, still glad you joined us, Commander?,” Dorian asked as he rubbed his arms with his hands to warm them up.

“Of course, we must save our men.”

“Indeed, although it was nice seeing you out of your commander role, even if just fo a bit,” Allen smiled.

Cullen chuckled, “You are right, it was… nice.”

“I still can’t believe you would agree with the Inquisitor in fooling us,” Cassandra said, still a bit bitter.

“Have you forgotten that time you and I fooled the Bull?,” the Inquisitor smirked at her as he spoke.

“That is…! That wasn’t…! We agreed not to talk about that!”

“Don’t ask,” Dorian warned the Commander, “because you don’t want to know.”

The Lady Seeker made an irritated sound and turned her face to the opposite wall.

“Why don’t you tell me about that dragon? You did tell me how you fought it, but you skipped the part where you camped next to it’s nest.”

“We didn’t exactly camp next to it,” she explained. “We camped next to a cave… that led to it’s lair.”

“We came across it’s children. Adorable things! One of them burned the Iron Bull’s ass!,” Dorian recalled.

“Ow! Boss! Let’s fight them! Tell me we are going to fight them!”, Cassandra imitated the Bull’s voice, making the three men laugh. “The rest of it, you already know.”

A silence followed their laughter, clear indicator of how tiredness was slowly making them fall into slumber. Dorian moved to get more comfortable and used the Inquisitor as a pillow. Cassandra soon followed, her head resting on Cullen’s left shoulder, which made the man blush. Not long after, Allen’s head fell on his right shoulder, making his cheeks feel even warmer. At least he wouldn’t be cold during the night, but he was certainly not used to such… friendliness? It was a new type of warmth he was starting to like, and despite Corypheus’ menace, he felt things would be good in the end, or at least that’s what his numb mind told him before he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, it falling to his right when he finally fell asleep.

“Hmmpff,” he muttered in his sleep as something touched his leg. “Go away…”

The thing tightly wrapped around his ankle and he opened his eyes wide, seeing some sort of slick green tentacle grabbing him.

“Maker’s br…!”

He was forcefully pulled, dragged towards the door without being able to grab to anything else than his shield. His leaving made both Cassandra and Allen fall to each other, hitting their heads and waking up in a complaint of pain. The Inquisitor was the first one to see Cullen on the floor, sliding towards the outside. He quickly got up and ran after him, taking his bow and quiver in the way.

“Wait!,” Cassandra ran to her weapon, but she stepped where she shouldn’t have and the wood cracked below her, leaving her foot stuck, “Dorian! Wake up already!”

“What’s wrong?,” he said as he woke up.

“Cullen and Allen need help!”

Dorian used his staff to stand and heard a cracking below him, although the floor seemed alright around him.

“What are you staring at?! Go help them!”

“Something’s wrong!”

He stepped on the next wooden plank and heard more cracking. Whatever it was that floor was standing on, it had been weakened and it would soon collapse.

“If I move, this goes down!”

“You can make it!,” she said. “Just run!”

“What about you? You could die!”

“Help. Them. NOW!”

He grunted and got ready to run, but as soon as he made some steps, the supports under the planks cracked and part of the floor fell, along with both inquisition members, that hit a viscous surface hard.

“Ugh, great idea, running…”

“At least we are alive,” Cassandra got up and looked around. The place looked like some sort of basement. There was, however, no way to go up.

“Look,” Dorian said, with a low voice, staring at three corpses that rested against a wall. “Probably two adults and a child. A family…”

“They must have been trying to escape the blight… it’s disheartening to watch.”

“We must find a way out ourselves, now…”

On the surface, Cullen tried to sink his shield in the soil to stop that thing from dragging him, but he had no luck, and he was getting closer to the water, and even if it wasn’t that deep, it was still enough to drown him. Fortunately, the Inquisitor ran faster than he was getting pulled. He jumped to him and grabbed his hand, turning the Commander into a rope in a tug-of-war game between Allen and the beast. Using his free leg, Cullen kicked the tentacle repeatedly until it gave up and released him, disappearing in the marsh and making both him and the Inquisitor fall into the mud.

“Thanks! Looks like we scared it away.”

“We didn’t,” Allen said as he helped the man stand. “That was no beast… that’s a demon.”

A huge Terror demon emerged then from the water, it’s large tail shaking behind it’s body, menacing to take a grasp at them again.

“Behind me, Inquisitor!”

“Cullen, you don’t have a weapon.”

“But I have a shield,” he answered, and then ran to meet the demon as it tried to attack him with it’s claw. But the former Templar blocked the hit with his shield and then used it to smack the Terror, making it fall back a few steps. Allen wasted no time and started shooting his arrows, which made Cullen angry. “What are you doing?! Get to safety!”

“Like hell I will!”

The Terror became annoyed at the rogue’s projectiles and hit Cullen with so much force he was sent flying to the bog. Then, the demon arched it’s back and the floor below him shone.

“Cullen! Move!”

“What?”

The demon dived into the bright hole and moved underground, first smacking Allen, who fell to the ground, and then rose under Cullen, stunning him and making him lose his shield. It then grabbed him by his neck and moved him up in the air, near it’s face, screaming at the Commander as it choked him. The Inquisitor tried to recover, but he realized his bow was missing, probably sent far by the hit. Without thinking, he charged unarmed at the demon, but before he could reach it and Cullen, the Terror swung it’s tail and wrapped it around Trevelyan’s neck, choking him as well as he rose him from the floor. Cullen silently cursed the demon, the Fade and Cassandra and Dorian for not being there as he desperately tried to get free of the claws of the Terror, punching and kicking it with no luck. His eyes met the Inquisitor’s and he quietly apologized for failing him. In his gaze he only saw anger. He noticed his hand quickly moved from the tail that was killing him to his quiver. He grabbed an arrow and with a rage scream, cut the tail. The Inquisitor fell into the muddy waters and the Terror made a loud and painful scream that made Cullen close his eyes in agony. Allen got up and took another arrow in his left hand, then began stabbing the demon’s back with both projectiles until it finally let the Commander free, who fell into the marsh, coughing several times and caressing his neck. The Terror fell to it’s knees and the Inquisitor took the chance to grab his head and slit it’s throat from behind with a roar. The demon shrieked one last time as green blood spouted from the wound, then sank dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No demons were harmed in the making of this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit violence, mutilation and blood in this chapter

“Have you completely lost your mind?!,” the stare Cullen gave the Inquisitor could have frozen half of Orlais, but the man didn’t flinch.

“'Thanks Allen!' You are welcome, Cullen!,” he said as he retrieved his bow from the mud.

“I commanded you to retreat, you could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I’m sorry, you _commanded_ me?,” Allen rose his voice a bit. “I just saved your life!”

“Your life is worth more than mine! You are the Inquisitor!”

These words made Allen sigh with an ironical smile. He shook his head and looked to a side.

“Right. The Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste,” he spoke to the air, slowly and theatrically remarking his titles.

“Yes,” the Commander said, exasperated, “all of Thedas is counting on you to defeat Corypheus and to stop this madness that has fallen upon us!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?,” Trevelyan turned to him, aggressively, making Cullen realize he had probably said something he shouldn’t have, but before he could further think about it, Allen showed him the palm of his left hand, the Anchor shinning green through his glove. “Because this thing reminds me of it every day! This thing is the cause of the many sleepless nights that made me seem so “dreamy” in our meetings!”

Cullen held his stare and remained silent for a few seconds. Then, with a more calmed tone he said:

“Then you shouldn’t be taking these risks.”

But, somehow, that seemed to make things worse, and a whole lot of emotions went through the Inquisitor’s face. From anger to all sorts of different types of pain, ending on… sadness. “Maker’s breath, what have I said now?,” Cullen asked himself.

“I am not some weapon you can store at an armory and take out just to throw at your enemy,” his voice wasn’t aggressive now. A way to define it, would have been broken.

“That… that is not what I meant…,” the Commander replied, almost in a whisper.

“No? Isn’t that what happened at Haven? When I was thrown to the rift twice? Didn’t everyone counted on me doing it even if I died? Did you ever stop for just one second and think about how that made me feel? How lonely it is to know everyone around you sees you as an object?,” The Inquisitor turned his head, but Cullen had seen the suffering in his eyes and, despite the rain and the darkness, tears forming in them. And there was nothing he could say, because that was the truth. Everyone had been so busy with the Conclave and the hole in the sky that no one considered the risks that man was taking for them, even after he had been treated like a despicable prisoner, and the weight that had suddenly fallen over his shoulders. Allen turned again to him. “Look, I know what’s at stake, I know what I have to do and I intend on doing it. I just wish that someone could see me as person.”

He then turned to the hut and began walking, but stopped when he noticed Cassandra and Dorian next to the door.

“Are we interrupting something?,” Dorian said with cheerful note.

“Where were you?,” Allen asked, exasperated.

“We had to… take another route,” Cassandra explained. “The floor fell and we had to find our way back to the surface. We saw a rift and an Avvar nearby, although he doesn’t seem hostile.”

“The rift is closed, but not sealed, so you might want to wiggle your fingers at it.”

“Alright, take me to them,” he tiredly sighed.

“Anything we missed?,” the woman asked him.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

The Inquisitor and Cassandra led the way while Dorian slowed his pace to get to the Commander’s side.

“I must say I’m impressed. Not even I managed to piss him off like that, congratulations!”

“Am I supposed to share your… enthusiasm about it?”

“To be fair, you must know not even half of that was really meant for you. You simply lit a fuse that had been long shortened, and you took the blast.”

“I will apologize, I meant no offense.”

“A word of advice? If you want to be friends with the Inquisitor you have to stop thinking of him as the Inquisitor.”

“But he is the Inquisitor.”

“You are not listening, Cullen…”

“But we are, and we can hear all that you say,” Cassandra commented.

“Apology accepted…,” Allen muttered then, not turning to the mage and the former Templar.

Soon, the hand of the Inquisitor began buzzing with green electricity sparking around it. He made a short and quiet noise of pain that Dorian and Cassandra seemed to be used to, but not the Commander.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. There’s the rift.”

Cullen couldn’t help but think it was rather small and, in a way, even disappointing. He was expecting something truly demonic, not that thin trail that was barely visible. Although, next to the huge Avvar that was observing it, anything would look small.

“So you’re Herald of Andraste,” he spoke with a deep voice, looking at Allen’s hand as it kept buzzing. “My kin want you dead, lowlander, but it’s not my job. No fears from me.”

“What is your job then?,” the Inquisitor asked with an unhidden curiosity tone.

“I’m called in when the dead pile up. Rites to the gods, mending for the bleeding, a dagger for the dying. That’s my job.”

“The other Avvar kidnapped an Inquisition patrol. Are they alright?”

“They were. Last I saw them.”

“I shall go, then, as soon as this rift is sealed. Stand back and get ready for a fight.”

Allen pointed his hand to the rift and a green magical beam connected the two. He pulled back forcefully and it opened, the scream of emerging demons and the green flash giving Cullen a chill along his back that made him rise his sword and shout: “For the Inquisition!”. He charged at a demon, and so did Cassandra and the Avvar while fireballs and arrows flew to stop the spirits that attacked from afar. A familiar shriek made him turn instantly. A Terror rose from the ground behind the Seeker, who was facing a demon.

“Cassandra, behind you!,” he warned her, just in time for her to stab the demon and turn around with her shield high, stopping the creature’s claw. It then spun around itself and hit her with it’s tail, and although the shield protected her from any damage, it did make her fall back a few steps. Cullen took the chance to move behind it and cut the tail, making the demon scream in pain. “Leave this one to me.”

The warrior nodded and targeted another fiend, leaving Cullen with the Terror. His heart beating increased as it turned to face him, an odd feeling of anger blinding the Commander, as if that had been the Terror that had defeated him earlier. “Not again,” he told himself, and then charged, his sword describing a semi circle that the demon could barely escape from, leaving a wound across it’s torso. It then shrieked fiercely, and charged back, it’s first claw hitting Cullen’s shield, breaking his main guard; the second, he redirected with his sword; and the third he dodged by crouching. Cullen then swung his sword to cut it’s legs, but he miscalculated and hit them with the blunt part of his weapon, making the demon fall. He rose his sword and got ready to end the Terror with a roar, but when he went for the stab the demon sank in the ground, making the weapon thrust in the mud. The former Templar soon stood up and looked around for the fiend, finding a green glow on the ground below the Tevinter mage.

“Pavus!,” he called for him, but Dorian was focused on a spirit and his spells prevented him from hearing the Commander. Nonetheless, Allen noticed and was close enough to run and jump on him, the both of them rolling on the mud as the Terror emerged, claws ready. Cullen had no time to reach it, so he almost unconsciously threw his sword with all the strength he had, hoping his aim was true enough to hit the Terror. And it was. The blade sank into the demon’s torso, making it fall into the bog and causing Cullen to cheerfully laugh.

“I feel like you got the whole concept of hitting on someone wrong, Inquisitor,” Dorian said, making Allen and Cullen snort. Trevelyan got up and helped the mage stand, then grabbed the grip of the Commander’s sword and pulled it out of the dead Terror. He walked towards Cullen and handed it.

“I guess we are even now.”

Cullen smiled and nodded, taking his sword.

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra called, “it’s clear, you can seal the rift now.”

And with the same ritual he had used to open it, Allen closed it, bringing a peaceful silence that was now only interrupted by the rain.

“Lady of the Skies!,” the Avvar gasped in surprise. “You can mend the gaps in the air?”

“It’s the Heralds job,” the Lady Seeker explained.

“Maybe you do have a god’s favor…”

“We must go now. Will you try to stop us?.”

“No. Watch the water.”

The party returned to the path and continued moving under Cullen’s direction, eventually reaching another beacon. Like with the previous, they lit it up, fought the corpses and demons, and continued their walk through the bogs, eventually reaching the forth and last beacon.

“Good work,” the Inquisitor said as they ended the last corpses. “We have a path free of corpses back to the shore.”

“The fewer of these creatures, the better,” Cassandra replied, sheathing her sword.

“Do not rest yet,” Cullen warned. “We are close to the keep.”

They followed the road until some ruins showed in the mist, the towers of the castle making a magnificent, yet terrifying panorama as the storm above it growled and briefly lit up with thunders.

“The silence, the keep, the darkness…,” Allen commented.

“Shhh, you will wake the dead.”

And as if Dorian had summoned them, the bodies rose ready to attack.

“More undead!”

“By the Maker, they are endless!,” Cassandra complained. “Run for the castle!”

Dorian casted a huge thunder that sent the undead blocking the path to the ground. A moment they seized to run towards the fortress, Cassandra and Cullen leading the way to slash the corpses that managed to get again in their way. But as they were reaching the entrance, a group of five Avvars stood at the gates.

“There they are,” Allen muttered angry, taking an arrow from his quiver. “And once more they stand in the Inquisition’s way!”

Before anyone could add to this, he shot an explosive projectile in their way, setting them all on fire and, by the time the party reached them, leaving them all dead. When they crossed the gates, they were closed behind them, leaving the undead outside, but also trapping them in.

“So called Herald of Andraste,” a man spoke from above. Cullen counted seven more Avvars next to him, all of them standing on a wooden platform.

“He is not the Hand of Korth,” he whispered to the Inquisitor. He reacted by giving Dorian a discreet look that the mage somehow seemed to understand.

“You wanted me here, I’m here!,” Allen then said. The Commander noticed Dorian had sneaked his hand behind his back and his lips were slightly moving.

“We didn’t think you’d show up… and here you stand, too late to save your men now.”

“What?!,” Cullen shouted. “Your Chief personally gave me his word, he told me that they were going to be kept safe!”

“For how long did you expect us to feed them and look after them? They were long dead when you arrived. Our Chief told you what you wanted to hear so you would bring the Herald, and you did.”

“Son of a…!,” he stepped forward, ready to unsheathe his sword, but Trevelyan stopped him with his arm. Cullen turned to him, annoyed, and then saw for the first time what the Inquisitor looked like when he was utterly furious. The natural curve of his mouth that always made him seem smiley was now a perfect straight line, his lips pressed together, and the purest hatred in his eyes. His calmness only made it more evident for the Commander that he was about to unleash his wrath, and he had an idea on how that was going to happen. Allen looked back at the Avvar, and with a firm voice, he said:

“Kill them.”

Dorian, who had been canalizing his magic all that time moved his hand and aimed at their enemies, casting a massive thunderbolt that cracked through the air and hit the Avvar with such force the flash blinded them, and the sound of the impact got so loud it was difficult to identify the screaming in all the buzzing. Cullen had to cover his eyes to prevent the strong light from hurting them, and when he opened them again after a few seconds he saw that all that remained was a fiery structure and corpses. Some partially burned, some suffering spasms.

“Bastards…,” Cullen punched a pillar. “This is all my fault. I endangered your life for nothing! I should have pushed! I should have demanded…”

“Enough!,” Allen screamed, holding his hand. “This isn’t your fault. This is their fault. You did what you had to do, and I will do the same.”

The Commander wanted to continue shouting and hitting that stupid pillar, but he forced himself to calm down, he pushed all of his feelings inside, which gave him such a strong headache he almost fell to his knees.

“Let’s go,” he said, moving before Cassandra could even notice his illness.

“Do you think it’s possible they were bluffing?,” Dorian asked as they moved towards the interior of the fortress. “Perhaps to anger the Inquisitor?”

“That remains to be seen,” the Seeker answered, “but I wouldn’t get my hopes up… they’ve proven they have no honor, and lies are easier to feed than prisoners.”

“Regardless, they’ve gone too far. And they will now face justice,” Allen promised, making Cullen feel a bit better.

“I hope that justice is served with a blade,” he muttered. And then they entered what once had been a throne room, although it was now a part of the night, since the ceiling had fallen and the skies now wept over it’s long lost glory and their despicable new occupants.

“Herald of Andraste, face me, I am the hand of Korth himself!”

The huge man stood at the end of the hall, holding a two handed hammer and wearing a helmet with horns, probably to intimidate his enemies. But Allen didn’t flinch at his sight. The Avvar leader walked down the stairs and stopped, waiting for the Inquisitor to get ready. Trevelyan looked at him with disgust and then handed his bow to Dorian, making him, Cassandra and Cullen confused. And they only got even more worried when the Inquisitor walked towards them, grabbed the grips of their swords and unsheathed them, holding Cassandra’s in his right hand and Cullen’s in his left.

“It’s not wise of you to fight as something you are not,” the Hand of Korth spoke.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Allen swung both swords threateningly. “I’m going to kill you.”

Cullen felt his body tense as the cold wind hooted between both duelists. The Inquisitor’s words sounded convincing enough, but he was unsure the man had enough skill with the swords to defeat the Avvar with them. He looked at Cassandra and found an odd mixture of concern and excitement about the fight. It made him think perhaps there was more to Trevelyan than he knew. And what did he really knew about him, anyway? A rage scream made him return his gaze to the Hand of Korth, who had charged at Allen. With graceful agility, he dodged the hit by moving to a side. The Avvar tried again, but with the same result. He was too slow to hit the rogue, and the more he tried, the harder he hit, the more angry and tired he got, and the more pathetic he seemed to the Commander.

“Stop moving!,” the Avvar shouted, panting.

“You are a total idiot, and that is going to cost you your worthless life,” Allen swung both blades, Cassandra’s cutting the Chief’s hands and Cullen’s slashing his forearms, making the man scream in pain and horror. “I expected a battle with a mighty warrior, but you are hardly worth the chills.”

He sank the swords in the man’s shoulders, making him gasp and fall to his knees out of pain, his eyes almost coming out of their basin, his breathing going more and more intense.

“You f-failed…,” he managed to say. “I k-killed your m-”

Allen pulled one of the daggers from his belt and stabbed him in his neck.

“I don’t need to listen to you. No one does,” his cold tone made Cullen shiver, and he knew he wasn’t the only one. “Death is now inevitable for you. As soon as I pull this blade out your heart will beat three more times. Three pulses that will push your blood out through the wound. And I want you to die knowing what happens when you defy the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste.”

Everyone was holding their breaths, only the choking gasps of the Avvar and the storm breaking the silence that Trevelyan allowed to be before speaking again.

“By the Maker’s will and Andraste’s grace, I, Inquisitor Allen Trevelyan, sentence you to die for the crimes you’ve committed against the Inquisition.”

And he pulled the dagger. And as he had predicted, three blood splatters emerged from his wound, the man falling back to the floor, lifeless, his blood mixing with the water puddles.

“… And the same sentence shall be passed on those who contributed in said crimes.”

Before any of the Avvar could react, the Inquisitor opened a breach over them that consumed them all in a matter of seconds before closing again as if it had never been there. Cullen, Cassandra and Dorian silently stared at the man as he took a deep breath, pulled both swords from the Hand of Korth’s corpse, cleaned the blood on them by shaking them, and returned them to their owner’s sheathes.

“Are you alright?,” Dorian was first to ask, handing him his bow.

“To be honest, no. I counted on finding them alive,” the Inquisitor turned to Cullen with a sad expression. All of the anger had now left. He seemed… tired. “I am really sorry.”

“Our men might find peace in the justice you served here.”

“I wish I could have done more than that.”

Allen put a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and then looked at Cassandra. She nodded with a slight smile.

“Let us go home. Our job here is finished,” she spoke.

“There lies the brat,” someone said behind them: the Avvar they had met near the rift. “His father, chief of our holding, would duel me for the loss, if he cared enough.”

“You don’t seem too attached to your kin, or even like them. Our Inquisition has a purpose your chief lacks. You could help us stop the Breach.”

“Is that wise?,” Cullen asked, a bit bothered, causing Cassandra to hit him with her elbow.

“He is different,” Allen said with simplicity.

“Could this bed why the Lady of the Skies led me here? To help you heal the wounds in her skin?,” the man spoke to the clouds. “Aye, I’ll join you.”

And he left.

“You shouldn’t question the Inquisitor’s decisions in front of strangers. Even as an advisor,” Cassandra scolded the Commander, making him scratch the back of his head.

“I know, forgive me, Inquisitor.”

“It’s alright. I understand your doubts, specially after everything that has happened. Come, I need a bath to take all of this blood and mud off me as soon as possible.”


	4. Chapter 4

          Smack. Sleepy groan. Smack. Bleat.

          “Maker’s breath, what is that?,” Cullen asked himself as he got up, annoyed at the sudden interruption of his slumber. They had returned late last afternoon from the Fallow Mire and he had expected some proper rest, but it seemed like that wasn’t the Maker’s will. He got some clothes on and peeked out of his door, noticing a soldier nearby. “Soldier! What’s going on!”

          “Ah! It’s nothing, Commander. We have it handled, no need for you to worry about it!”

          “That makes me worry.”

          “Really, we  _got_  this.”

          Cullen raised an eyebrow, but decided to leave it at that and returned inside his tower. With some luck he would still have some more time to rest. However, as he was half way through the ladder, someone knocked on his front door, making him roll his eyes.

          “Co-”, before he could finish his sentence, Dorian opened the door and came in.

          “What are you doing there?,” he asked.

          “Exercise.”

          “You do jokes?,” the mage chuckled. “Did you just wake up? Tsk, tsk, it’s almost midday, Commander!”

          “Midday?!,” he said almost too loud as he reached the floor, quickly coughing after that to change subject. “Did you need anything?”

          “Perhaps. The Inquisitor’s library is filled with Chantry nonsense, but Cassandra mentioned you had a personal collection of books. I was wondering if you would let me take a look.”

          “Sure, go ahead,” Cullen invited him to approach his bookcases, “although don’t expect to find anything magical here.”

          “Believe me, Commander, if I was looking for a book of spells a Templar’s quarters would be the last place I’d search. I like what you’ve done to the place, by the way, you have a roof and all!”

          Cullen shook his head and sat in front of his desk, where Cassandra had left all the reports she had taken care of during his week of absence. They were all properly signed and organized, separated by date and location, which saved him a lot of work. He would thank her for it as soon as he saw her.

          “Wait,” Dorian suddenly said with excitement, “is this a novel?”

          The Commander looked at the book he was showing him and he nodded.

          “Yes. A pretty funny one.”

          “No! You enjoy something that doesn’t involve working? You actually have fun?”

          “Of course I have fun!”

          The mage leaned on the bookcase with a grin.

          “Really? What else do you do for fun? And sparring doesn’t count. That’s working.”

          “I play chess, or used to.”

          Dorian seemed slightly surprised.

          “That’s… actually nice. We should play some time.”

          “If you don’t mind losing,” Cullen replied with a smirk.

          “Cocky! Fine, we’ll see how this turns out.”

          “See what turn out?,” the Inquisitor asked from the door.

          Cullen quickly got up, almost spilling the inkwell on the table.

          “Inquisitor! What can I do for you?”

          “I can come back later if you are busy.”

          “No need,” Dorian said as he walked towards the door, carrying the book. “I was already leaving.”

          Allen then noticed it and gasped.

          “Hold on, are you cheating on my library with his?,” he said, making the mage chuckle.

          “Evidently. At least Cullen has something mildly readable.”

          “I will remember this, Pavus,” he grinned as the man left. “Anyways, I just wanted to bring you yesterday’s report. It’s kind of pointless, since you were there, but Josephine insists on the importance of proper paper work, so here you go.”

          Cullen took the clip board from the Inquisitor and quickly went over the first pages, stopping on the third.

          “Undead, undead, undead, demon, punch, demon, scream, hiss, Cassandra’s little-,” he felt his cheeks grow warm as his face went red of embarrassment.

          “Excuse me?”

          “And a drawing of a terror with… is that a phallus?!”

          “What?!,” Allen took the files from his hands and checked the page, his face going as red as the Commander’s, only with an added anger expression. They then heard a devilish laugh behind the door and some steps running away. “SERA!! COME BACK HERE NOW!!”

          And the Inquisitor left behind the elf. That was your typical day at Skyhold, and Cullen couldn’t help but laugh at Allen’s reaction to his sabotaged report. Although he was glad this time it wasn’t him the victim of Sera’s prank. It wouldn’t be the first time…

          What Cullen didn’t know was that the day had room for more awkward situations. He was called that afternoon to assist the Inquisitor during a trial at the main hall. When he arrived, Allen was already sitting on his throne with Leliana by his left. Some people had gathered, but Josephine wasn’t there yet, so he was early. He walked towards the Inquisitor and saluted him and the Nightingale with a bow that they politely replied and then stood at the man’s right.

          “Cassandra’s little…,” Allen whispered.

          “Shhh!,” he replied with a chuckle.

          “What are you both up to?,” Leliana asked with a smile.

          “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

          “Neither does Cassandra,” Trevelyan spoke, making the Commander snort.

          “Inquisitor,” Josephine came out of her office and bowed before Allen and the other advisors. A man dressed in Avvar armour and wearing a helmet with huge horns approached, guarded by two Inquisition soldiers as the Antivan spoke. “This was a surprise. After you returned from the bogs, we discovered this man attacking. The building. With a… goat.”

          Cullen coughed to avoid laughing and being noticed, but both Leliana and Allen looked at him, them trying to remain serious as well.

          “Chief Movran the Under. He feels slighted by the killing of his Avvar tribesmen, including his son, Hand of Korth, who repeatedly attacked you first,” she made a pause, her being the only one to truly seem to be in control of her emotions. “What should we do with him? Where… should he go?”

          “I'm sorry, I'm confused. You answered the death of your clan… with a goat?,” the Inquisitor asked, sounding so serious it made some of the people in the crowd laugh, Cullen breathing deeply through his nose to avoid doing the same.

          “A courtroom? Unnecessary!,” Chief Movran laughed. “You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as it is my custom, by smacking your holdings with goat’s blood.”

          Allen remained silent, then stared at Josephine.

          “Don’t look at me.”

          “No foul!,” the Avvar continued, “He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with your Inquisition. A redheaded mother guarantees a brat!”

          Leliana then coughed, annoyed at the comment. At that moment, the Commander was simply trying to avoid eye contact with any of the people in the room.

          “Do as you’ve earned, Inquisitor. My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads!”

          “Leliana?,” Allen asked, and the Lady Nightingale leaned to whisper him some advice Cullen couldn’t hear. After some meditation, the Inquisitor turned to him, “Cullen, you were the most affected by these crimes.”

          “Simply the presence of this man irritates me,” he whispered to him, “but we shouldn’t judge a father for his son’s crimes. Enough blood has already been spilled, so I suggest you simply send him and his people away, far from us.”

          The man nodded as a thank you and deliberated for some time, toying with the ring he wore on his pinky.

          “It seems like our conflict was accidental, Chief Movran, and we both lost our people in it, so it can’t be repeated,” he began. “Since it was the Avvar who attacked first, I ban you and your clan—with as many weapons as you can carry—to Tevinter.”

          “My idiot boy got us something after all!,” he laughed.

          And as he was being taken away, Allen whispered: “Yeah, you  _goat_  lucky after all,” causing Leliana to snort and Cullen to let out a somewhat loud laugh.

          “Well done, Inquisitor,” the Spymaster smiled as she, and everyone else, left.

          “Today is certainly quite the day, isn’t it?,” the Commander asked.

          “Indeed. And I feel like I still have a lot of laughter to get out of my system. What do you say? Are you up for a drink?”

          “Despite today, it’s not like we have much to celebrate…”

          “And this is exactly why we should,” Allen said, standing up. “Something about me: I only drink to party and to evade from something heavy.”

          “I am… not sure,” Cullen scratched the back of his head.

          “As you wish,” Trevelyan showed a smile that seemed not only out of courtesy, but a bit disappointed. “If you need me, I’ll be at the Herald’s Rest.”

          And he left, some people bowing as he went by them. Cullen was, honestly, glad he didn’t get such attention. The thought of it exhausted him more than a war itself. He came down the throne steps and walked to his quarters, where he took off his armor, then stretched. He grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine, but as he was about to serve it, he stopped, for another night, he was drinking alone.

          He realized he felt lonely, especially after spending a day with the Inquisitor, Cassandra and Dorian. Just like in Kirkwall, he didn’t have many friends, his only concern was always to go on, forget, move forward, and now he had felt the warmth of good people. And in the end, everyone had someone in the Inquisition. Cassandra knew Leliana, for example, who was also friends with Josephine. Or Sera, the Iron Bull and Blackwall. Yet, he kept isolating himself most of the time, even if now he didn’t have to. Now, it was up to him, and if someone could understand it, that would be the Inquisitor. And perhaps he would that way be able to tell him the truth behind his illness. He sighed and closed the bottle, then left the tower.

         

Crossing the battlements he could reach the top of the tavern. He came in and went down the stairs, then looked around. He spotted Sera and Bull drinking in a corner, laughing and singing with the Chargers, obviously having a great time by the noise they were making. On the opposite side he found Trevelyan, drinking alone on a bench, not even talking to the bartender, whose name Cullen didn’t even remember. The Inquisitor was a cheerful and a fun person to be with, yet he was always by himself in his free time, as if he was part of everything without really fitting into any. He walked towards the resting Herald and sat next to him, making Allen smile broadly.

          “You changed your mind.”

          The Commander answered with a shy smile.

          “Cabot! Get the Commander something Ferelden!”

          The dwarf snarled and filled a mug with beer, then placed it before Cullen.

          “He grows on you…,” Trevelyan whispered as he began drinking. “Like poison.”

          The Commander choked and almost spilled his beer as the Inquisitor cheerfully chuckled.

          “Sorry, I’ll try not to get you killed before the night ends.”

          “I would appreciate that,” Cullen grinned, still between coughs. The Inquisitor tapped his back and he took another sip. “It occurs to me that you know about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

          “You never asked.”

          “Fair enough.”

          “What would you like to know?”

          “Well,” Cullen took some time to think of a question, “What’s the story behind the Herald of Andraste?”

          Allen chuckled and shook his head, “So, who I was before this all happened… Well, I’m surprised you didn’t hear the stories… Before being the Inquisitor I was Ser Allen Aurelio Falepino Trevelyan, a dragon slayer from Ostwick who was also a secret advisor of the Divine.”

          “Right… Falepino…,” Cullen smiled. “Dragon slayer and secret advisor… is that the main character of Varric’s new novel?”

          “You offend me, Commander! I came up with that all by myself,” the man grinned and then drank from his tankard before speaking again, now with a slightly bored tone. “Jokes aside, my story isn’t really great. I’m the youngest of four siblings who was meant to join the Templars. Instead, I followed my sister’s footsteps and became a rogue. She also taught me how to play the lute and sing, so that’s how I spent my time in Ostwick.”

          “You were a minstrel?”

          “No, I was a… bard.”

          “Oh…”

          “My family didn’t approve and my brothers are both two nugheads, so they encouraged my parents to send  _me_  instead of  _them_  to the Conclave. I think my mother still had hope of me joining the Chantry afterwards, so she agreed. The rest, you already know.”

          “The Maker does have an odd way of making things work out.”

          “Not what you expected for “the Herald of Andraste,” is it?”

          “No! I didn’t mean that!,” he said, waving his hands realizing he had sent the wrong message, “It just seems like despite not being part of the Chantry or the Templars, you were meant to be there.”

          “Could be… Only the Maker knows. Anything else you want to know?”

          “Being a bard, your youth must have been interesting.”

          “It was quite fun, sometimes adventurous. I learnt a lot about people and what they enjoy. How to charm them and play the Grand Game. But it was also dangerous. I once came across another bard who was targeting the same person as I. We both tested each other using the words, pushing matters forward despite knowing the truth of who we truly were.”

          “How did that end? Did the two of you had a fight?”

          “You could say that. We ended in bed, where one is most vulnerable. But I knew well as not to trust a hand behind you that isn’t caressing your back. I dodged the dagger and used it to end the bard’s career.“

“Truly a career of passion… but why was she after the same person as you?”

          “Actually, she was a he. I never knew who sent him, but it wasn’t surprising. We were both after a newly proclaimed noble. The way he had gotten his title was… shady, and the other nobles didn’t like it. Any of them could have hired him, just like they hired me.”

          “I… see.” The Commander said, flustered as a memory formed in his mind.

          “What’s wrong?,” Allen noticed. “Oh, is it because I have been with other men? Does that… bother you?”

          “What?! No! Not at all! Forgive me, it’s just… never mind.”

          “Wait… is it because of that time, back in Haven, when I… I didn’t apologize for that, did I? I’m sorry, that won’t happen again.”

          “It’s… fine, you caught me off guard there.”

          “Things… changed?”

          “I… why do you… Maker’s breath,” he grabbed his tankard and drank all of it in one go, leaving the Inquisitor half amused and half surprised. Cullen then smacked the mug against the wooden bar. “I want to listen to you.”

          “What?”

          “Playing and singing.”

          “Here? Now? No way, I’m not giving Sera any more information about myself today.”

          Cullen chuckled as he remembered the ridiculous page she had added to Allen’s report. That drawing was something that will forever stay in his mind, as well as the Inquisitor’s face as he went red out of rage.

          “Fair enough.”

          “Another time, perhaps. Maybe with a proper drink and not this… This. Cabot! Another round for the Commander and I!”

          With a grumpy noise, the dwarf served them more beer. Allen then rose his tankard and so did the Commander.

          “To everyone in the Inquisition, those lost and those who keep fighting.”

          “To the Inquisition,” Cullen smiled, and then they both drank. “You know, actually this may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition—or related matters.”

          “Indeed, we should do it more often.”

          “I would… like that.” It was an odd feeling, having someone to talk about things unrelated to work, and it seemed like Trevelyan felt the same way. How could he have missed it for so long?

          “Me too,” Allen answered with a wide and warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”

          “I must ask, how do you always stay so positive?”

          “If I didn’t I would have jumped out of a window long ago… I haven’t always been like this, though. I went through some really dark times growing up, but someone told me it’s up to us to see the beautiful things in our surroundings. It’s up to us to love and let us be loved. It’s up to us to see a barrier in front of us or not,” suddenly, a bright spark appeared in his eyes, accompanied by a very dreamy smile. “I know, it sounds very idealistic, but he was right in a big part of it. It was then when I found out what passion really was and how it can push us through everything, how great it is to enjoy little things like a song, a tale, your favorite food… How wonderful it is to feel two hearts connect, no matter who or what the other person is. It opened my mind in such a way I started noticing things that had always there, but I couldn’t see. And I loved all of them. Those things are what help me stand my ground. And I just got corny, didn’t I?”

          “Just a bit,” Cullen grinned. “But it’s a nice way of seeing things, specially in a world like ours.”

          Allen took a long drink of his beer and sighed, although it sounded like a dreamy sigh to the Commander. But he didn’t ask, he had already interrogated the man enough, so he took his tankard and drank as well, letting the moment of silence guide them to another topic, followed by more drinking and more topics until they both reached their permanent happy moment.

          “I am going to tell Josephine to change all the mugs in Skyhold with goat tusks,” the Inquisitor said, barely able to pronounce the words, and making the Commander laugh loudly.

          “And I’ll tell Leliana to change her ravens with messenger goats.” This time it was Trevelyan who laughed noisily, smacking the table as he was at it. He then stared at Cullen’s lip and touched it.

          “I like your scar,” he said, trying to point to the long healed wound on the Commander’s face but having little success. He then lost his strength and fell on the bar, smacking his head with the wood. “Ow. Hi, table.”

          “Hey, boss, the two of you sound a bit too… cheerful,” the Bull said, making both Allen and Cullen turn to him.

          “No, we are drunk, love,” the Inquisitor replied. “You are so big, and those horns… better than goat tusks.”

          The Qunari frowned as both men went back to laughing. He then grabbed the Commander and carried him upstairs, throwing him on the bed in the attic. Soon after, he threw the Inquisitor as well over him.

          “You two are terrible drinkers,” the Bull said before returning to the tavern below.

          “I think it was because of the horns,” Allen spoke, but Cullen was suddenly too tired to even reply and soon fell asleep, Trevelyan doing the same little after.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some addiction talk here, together with Cullen dealing with Lyrium withdrawal

           The roof of the tavern was even more broken that what Cullen’s had ever been, and the light that came through was so strong it was even blinding, which didn’t help with the Commander’s headache. Unable to open his eyes, he tried to move, but he felt trapped.

          “Don’t move so much,” a sleepy and groany voice said near his ear.

          “Inquisitor? Have you… Did you sleep over me all night?”

          “What? I can’t remember, when I try to my head spins. Just five more minutes.”

          “… You are crushing me.”

          “Hmpf! Fine!,” Allen moved, but then stopped and began sniffing his neck. “Wait, you smell good… I knew it!. Josephine owes me ten sovereigns.”

          Cullen shook, feeling ticklish, “W… what? I…”

          The Inquisitor put his hands on the bed to try to stand, but he felt unable, so he rolled to the side, ending lying next to the Commander. He seemed different with his brown hair all messed up and with a big hangover making his eyelids weight over hisgreen eyes. He looked less like the Herald of Andraste and more of Allen Trevelyan.

          “Hi,” he said with a smile. Cullen giggled.

          “You promised not to get me killed by the end of the night.”

          “And here you stand… lay, alive and well in the morning! Although, let’s not get beers anytime soon, alright?”

          They both laughed, and immediately regretted doing so, for the effort gave them an intense stitch in their heads.

          “Despite this, I enjoyed last night. What I remember, I mean.”

          “Me too. I’m glad you came,” Allen then warmly squeezed his shoulder and stood up, stretching with a long  _uuuuugh_. “You are a very comfortable bed, by the way. Now we should probably bath and have some elfroot tea… I’ll see you later, Commander.”

          The tea had indeed helped easing the headache, but the warm bath almost made Cullen fall asleep again, his muscles relaxed and his dizzy mind almost giving up surrounded by steam and peace. Getting inside his armor was the biggest challenge, though, since he felt weakness in all of his limbs. All he wanted to do was to get in bed and sleep until the next day, but since that wasn’t an option, he ate something and sat in front of his desk ready to face a pile of reports that needed his “immediate review.”

          Experience had made it clear, some of those reports were totally unnecessary and irrelevant, and with such blurry mind and a throbbing headache they became ev nworse. They seemed so stupid it was even angering. Who cared if a dog went by a watch tower? Are they afraid of a single dog? Was it going to bark and bark until the stone tower got ripped out of the ground? At that point, Cullen wasn’t even reading them, just overlooking them for the key words and the final lines, tearing some of them and putting the pieces in a box to use them later as kindling. When someone knocked on his door he wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or pleased for the interruption. Probably more of the first, since the way he said “come in” didn’t really sound welcoming.

          “Commander Rutherford,” by the clothes he wore he seemed like one of Leliana’s agents, “the Lady Nightingale sends me to inform you that this afternoon’s meeting has been postponed to tomorrow.”

          Joy, pure joy invaded Cullen. He could have the day off for real. Such thing could only be the Maker’s will and he was going to thank him from his bed. Although he still wanted to talk to Allen about a certain issue…

          “Got it. What is the reason?”

          “Our men have delayed and won’t be here until tomorrow, so nothing to report until then.”

          “I see. Thanks. Have you told the Inquisitor yet?”

          “No,” the spy replied, “I will seek for him after speaking with Lady Montyliet.”

          “Could you deliver him a message? Could you tell him I’d like a word with him?”

          The man nodded and bowed, then left the tower, the peace and quiet returning to it’s walls. Although sometimes, when silence reigned around him, the Commander would hear a whispering buzz in his ears and the headache would start, spreading to his whole body until almost all of his concentration went to past memories, old sufferings and his strongest fears, each of them travelling as ice cold water through his veins invading every fiber of his muscles, hurting his bones and making his skin itch. And the buzzing would continue there, even for hours, the sound pointing Cullen in only one direction: the bookcase, where the box with the lyrium was stored. His gaze was there at the moment, although the effects of not taking it weren’t present at the moment with all of their strength, he could still feel a calling. With a sigh, Cullen left his chair for a moment and took the wooden box, leaving it open on top of the desk as he stared at it, as if it was an attempt to memorize each detail of it, just like he did when he had most doubts about his decisions. That day was one of them, and this time it wasn’t just something related to the Inquisition, but something personal. He was seeing the Inquisitor as a friend, and the thought of Allen seeing him differently or not trusting him was somewhat scary and stressful. He didn’t want to lose that, but at the same time he couldn’t expect his trust if he didn’t give any. Trevelyan needed to know and maybe, he needed to tell. The buzzing had suddenly stopped, replaced by the sound of knuckles knocking on the door.

          “Come in, please.”

          The door opened and Allen entered slowly, speaking with caution.

          “I was told you wanted to talk to me in private. If it’s about last night, forgive me. I am not used to drinking and I might have said or done something that wasn’t… that was inappropriate.”

          Cullen couldn’t help to let out a chuckle, that despite not being very energetic, it helped easing the tension he was bearing.

          “That is alright. No, it’s something I think you, as leader of the Inquisition, should know.”

          “Al…right. You can tell me anything, anytime.”

          “I appreciate that, thank you,” Cullen replied, again feeling slightly better and actually believing the Inquisitor’s words, which at the same time made him rethink his speech in case it sounded too cold or serious. “You are aware of the use of lyrium in the Templar Order, aren’t you?”

          “Yes,” he nodded, now looking down at the box that rested in the desk between them, “it is what gives Templars their abilities, isn’t it?”

          “Indeed, but not just that. The lyrium has another effect. It controls Templars, making those who cut off suffer, go mad or even die.”

          “Why are you telling me this?,” Trevelyan didn’t try to hide his concern, neither in his tone or his facial expression, which made Cullen look down, breaking the eye contact.

          “Because although we have secured a source of lyrium for the Inquisition’s Templars I… no longer take it. I haven’t since I joined the Inquisition, months ago.”

          “Cullen, if this can kill you…”

          “It hasn’t yet. After what happened in Kirkwall… I do not want to be bound to the Order—or that life—any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it. But do not worry, I don’t intend on putting the Inquisition at risk, so I asked Cassandra to… watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty.”

          After his sentences were finished, Cullen raised his gaze back to Trevelyan, so many emotions across his expressive face made it hard to guess what exactly was going through his mind at that moment. Frowning, he closed his eyes for a moment and opened his lips as if he were about to talk, but said nothing, only speaking after a few more seconds of doubt.

          “Are you in pain?,” he asked lowly, his voice trembling, fearful of the answer perhaps, making something twist in the Commander’s stomach, for he then knew for sure the Inquisitor cared for him. And that was as comforting as worrying, since he had promised himself he would not lie to him.

          “I can endure it,” Cullen replied, trying to sound as unconcerned and brief as he could, attempting to avoid the topic going further on. And It seemed like Allen got the idea, since he swallowed his words, regained composure and then said:

          “Thank you for trusting me with this. I think you are brave, and I respect you for this.”

          “Thank you, Inqui-”

          “But remember something,” Trevelyan got closer to the desk. “The Inquisition is important, but so are you. If there is anything I can do for you, look for me.”

          He found no words to reply with, so he smiled and nodded, then offering his hand for a shake that the Inquisitor accepted with a chuckle, although still with a worried remark on his eyebrows.

          “Thank you, Allen.”

          Trevelyan smiled, this time broadly, then pat his arm before turning around and walking towards the door. He hesitated before leaving, but in the end, he walked away. The buzzing came back hand in hand with the silence, but Cullen was taking none of it, so he closed the box, put it back in the shelf and left the tower to go for a walk around the battlements and get some air. From up there he saw Cassandra in her usual spot near the dummies. Although she wasn’t training, she was sitting on a stump reading something. At some point she looked up and noticed him, then waved indicating Cullen to come down. He headed towards the stairs, fearing she would ask him to spar for a bit. The pain from last night was still latent in his muscles and the talk about lyrium had only made his headache worse. The last thing he needed was fighting, specially when even the steps he took down echoed inside his skull and sent cramps to his legs.

          “Good evening, Commander,” she greeted, showing a slight smile but also a frown between her eyebrows. “I heard the meeting was delayed.”

          “Yes, the reunion will be tomorrow morning.”

          “I… see,” her hand moved to the back of her head as she looked to a side, as she used to do when she was troubled. “Cullen, there is something that I want to ask you. I recently talked to the Inquisitor about the Seekers’ disappearance and my concern on something happening to them.”

          “I am aware. I’m afraid I can’t do much to help in finding them. But Leliana is working on it.”

          “I know, I’m marking some of the secret hideaways the Seekers use in a map in hopes it will aid her. But that is not what I wanted to ask you.”

          Cassandra left the map on the stump and walked towards one of the dummies. She sighed as she stared at it and continued talking. “The Templars that attacked Haven… they had been corrupted by Corypheus. The Seekers should have prevented that from happening, but they didn’t.”

          “That is not  _your_  fault,” Cullen muttered, the image of the Red Templars forming in his head as it caused both physical and emotional pain.

          The Lady Seeker punched the dummy so hard she made it fall to the ground.

          “He took  _everything_  from us…”

          Cullen understood where her suffering was coming from, and he shared a big part of it, but there were no words he could use to console her that wouldn’t mean empty promises of revenge. And revenge didn’t solve things, he had already learnt that lesson, so he quietly put his hand on her shoulder, resulting in Cassandra taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself.

          “Leliana might find where the Seekers are. That, or what is left of them,” she turned around, facing the Commander. “I don’t know what I might find but… I wondered if you would come with me.”

          It took the Commander a second to realize that what she meant was she needed a friend by her side, which made him smile slightly. Him and Cassandra had met back in Kirkwall, where she asked him to join the Inquisition as the Commander of it’s troops. She gave him a chance to do good after leaving the Order and all it meant behind. Even after learning that he wasn’t taking lyrium anymore, she encouraged him to join and supported his decision. He wasn’t going to turn his back on her now, especially when he thought he understood what she was going through.

          “If the Inquisitor doesn’t mind, I will be part of the team.”

          “I appreciate it, Commander,” she smiled, seemingly less preoccupied. “I will ask the Inquisitor personally, I’m sure he won’t mind. He has grown really fond of you lately.”

          “You think so?”

          “Your night at the Herald’s Rest didn’t go unnoticed. It surprised me, considering he hasn’t gone to the Tavern since Bull’s… issue.”

          Cullen rolled his eyes. Of course people would talk about them being… having drank a bit more than necessary. Then again, as long as no one personally bothered him about it, he didn’t care. He was drunk last night, yes, but a happy drunk. That made his headache worse. On the other hand, the “issue” Cassandra was talking about with Bull was unknown to him, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask, but he did for some reason.

          “Did something happen between them? Now that you mention it, Bull hasn’t accompanied him on any missions lately.”

          “You… don’t know?,” she rose her eyebrows and sighed. “I shouldn’t tell then. It is none of my business and I wouldn’t want to get involved. I assumed Allen had told you, I apologize.”

          “It’s… alright. I could speak with the Bull. Perhaps I could help them solve their issues.”

          Cassandra stared at him blankly, then took the map and walked away as she said “Andraste preserve me.”

          Cullen raised an eyebrow at her reaction, but was, despite the Seeker’s doubts, determined to help Allen, he deserved that. He was, however, unaware of how deep the issue between the leader of the Chargers and the Inquisitor was. If he had been, he wouldn’t have sit in a chair next to Bull with a beer. But he didn’t know, so there he was, drink in hand, asking him what had happened.

          “Well, I guess I fucked him bad. He hasn’t been around since then.”

          “What did you fight about?,” he asked, innocently, causing Bull to stare silently at him like Cassandra had done.

          “Fucked as in sex.”

          Cullen looked down, his face growing red as he cursed every last hair in Maferath’s beard, which made the Qunari explode in laughter.

          “He he, ahh, I enjoyed it, though,” he then said, “He’s a sweet guy with cute moans. And have you seen his ass? I’d take it again.”

          “Oh, Maker, what have I done?” was all the Commander could think as the Bull kept talking about the Inquisitor’s body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some more dealing with addictions

          “I doubt we can reach Duke Germain de Chalons, even with our current influence,” Josephine spoke, her voice sounding far to Cullen.

          “It is a big deal then,” Allen understood, “gaining the support of the Council of Heralds.”

          “I wouldn’t say the support as much as the… sympathy, to put it some way.”

          “What we really need is for more nobles to see us, and specially you, as an approachable person. More like one of them,” Leliana added.

          “Contacts in the Council of Heralds would give you a cache that might be of use in the future, Inquisitor. We must build new relationships and they must be taken care of.”

          “Then it would be best to appeal to them as a Trevelyan rather as the Inquisitor,” the Herald suggested.

          “Or as both. You are from the Free Marches, but still a noble, as well as the head of the Inquisition. If you manage to pick their interest, Josie can take care of the rest.”

          “I will send a couple of letters then. Who do you think would be best to start with?”

          “Duke Bastien has been absent for some time now, and Vivienne doesn’t seem to be interested in playing her part until we’ve done ours. How about Marquise Mantillon?,” the Spymaster suggested, the Commander still out of their conversation.

          “Perish the thought. I have no interest in becoming her tenth husband.”

          “I see you’ve done your research,” Josephine said with an adorable chuckle. “I would suggest Duke Cyril de Montfort, the youngest of the members.”

          “Give me information of both of them and I’ll see whom seems more easy to get close to.”

          “Very well then. To more pressing matters.”

          “Commander, I’m aware of your lack of interest in orlesian politics, but you could at least pretend that you are with us.”

          “What?,” he said, looking up at Leliana. “Forgive me, I didn’t sleep well.”

          “Are you alright?,” the Inquisitor’s eyes locked on his, making him slightly blush and look to a side.

          “Yes, just… that kind of day.”

          “Maybe we should take off your roof again,” the Nightingale joked, then turned to the war table.

          Allen stared at him for a bit longer, probably wanting to be sure that the Commander was truly just tired, although he seemed a bit flushed from what Cullen could see from the corner of his eye. Finally, the Inquisitor turned around and leaned over the table, Bull’s tales returning to Cullen’s mind. Inevitably, he found himself checking out Trevelyan, his gaze shyly going down the back of the man until it met the end of it. Due to his pose, his bottom was slightly up, his doublet raised and the tight trousers letting the shape of it be clearly perceived. Like the Qunari had described, it was big and firm, but then again, the Inquisitor was in good shape, for he trained with Cassandra from time to time, if not on his own with Dorian reading by his side. After learning the Bull and Allen had had a one night thing, he couldn’t help but wonder if there would be something going on between him and Dorian now. They seemed to get along pretty well and they were both handsome. Or maybe he was overthinking things. The inquisitor moved a leg behind the other, which made his bottom cheeks twitch under his clothes, causing Cullen to blush and unconsciously stroke the back of his head. A giggling next to him snapped him out of his thoughts, finding Leliana and Josephine smiling at him, while the Inquisitor’s head was turned, glancing at him, even more red that the Commander already was. He had been caught and now all he wanted was to melt down and merge with the stones of Skyhold.

          “So, Commander, shall I take the task at hand, or would you rather send your men?,” the Lady Ambassador gave him a devilish smile, well aware that he didn’t know what she was talking about. Leliana was staring at him, too, quiet but amused, expecting his answer. Whatever he said, it would make it all even more awkward.

          “A memorial for Haven,” Allen said lowly, interrupting the ladies’ fun and saving Cullen. “Josephine can do some fundraising for the project or we can send our men to help with the constructions.”

          “I’m sure I can get some volunteers from our ranks,” he spoke, slowly feeling calmer.

          “Very well then. Leliana is already working on finding the Seekers, so I think that’s all for today. Thank you all.”

          “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

 

 

          Cullen’s eyes were half-closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he suspiciously stared at the mysterious plate full of pastries that had magically appeared on his desk in the time of going to leave a report in Leliana’s desk and coming back. They could not be trusted, and he wasn’t going to let them out of his sight, not even when someone knocked on his door.

          “Co-”

          And again, before he could finish, Dorian came in, standing still as he noticed the staring contest the Commander was holding against the sugary goods.

          “Have I interrupted something? No, wait, you are trying to move them to your mouth with your mind, yes? Some sort of... Templar superpower.”

          “They appeared out of nowhere. They cannot be trusted.”

          “They are just cakes.”

          Cullen gave him a cold gaze as he slowly said:

          “Do not dare question the evilness behind candy coming from unknown hands, mage. It wouldn’t be the first time I’m on Sera’s bull’s eye.”

          Dorian came closer to the pastries and chuckled.

          “I think you are too suspicious, Commander. Those are far too well baked to be a product of Sera, don’t you think?”

          “Or maybe that is what she wants me to believe.”

          The mage rolled his eyes and took one of the cakes, putting it near his nose to smell it under the attentive stare of the former Templar. Dorian’s nose twitched, himself focused on the scent, then took a bite.

          “So?”

          “These don’t come from our naughty elf,” he said, putting the rest inside his mouth to finish tasting it. “Lemon and a pinch of vanilla. Your culprit wears green velvet, shoots arrows and is probably the only one aside from us who grooms his hair.”

          “Trevelyan,” Cullen sentenced, relaxed now. “Another one who is good at sneaking into places. How did you know?”

          “Are you joking? He is obsessed with those. I swear if he found a lemon in the wilderness he would start licking it.”

          The Commander chuckled at that mental picture. It was true that the Inquisitor had a soft spot for sweets, and the fact that he had left some in his office was… really nice.

          “You seem to know him very well.”

          “We spend quite some time together. He literally ran inside a bakery at Val Royeaux, like a five year old kid. The look on Cassandra’s face was outstanding.”

          “I can imagine… Did you need something, by the way?”

          “Yes, I came to return your Ferelden novel. I don’t share your sense of humor, but it wasn’t completely dreadful. Could use less mabari, definitively.”

          “I like mabaris,” Cullen said as he took the book the mage gave him, then put it back into his shelf. “Would you like to look for another one?”

          “A tempting suggestion, yet despite my willingness to learn more of the south and it’s culture, I’m afraid I already found entertainment for the journey to Redcliffe.”

          “Redcliffe? I wasn’t aware there were any hotspots there as of now,” he pointed out, perhaps a bit more accusingly than he should have.

          Dorian’s expression went somber, bitterly smiling at the Commander.

          “There are not. It is a personal matter. Only the Inquisitor and I will be traveling tomorrow.”

          “Oh… I understand,” Cullen said with a serious tone and a frown. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to gossip about your affairs with the Inquisitor.”

          “The Inquisitor and I? That’s an odd thing to say!,” his laugh sounded a bit shy. “Nothing like that. I received a letter from my father, asking to meet with a retainer at Redcliffe. Allen offered to accompany me.”

          “I… apologize,” the Commander’s face quickly turned red as he nervously scratched the back of his head. “I thought that… since you both… Maker’s breath, can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

          “Perish the thought! Are you… jealous, Commander?,” suddenly, all the weariness that the mage had been showing disappeared, replaced by a huge smirk that made one of the sides of Dorian’s moustache rise.

          “What? No! I just got that impression, since you both spend so much time together and you even know his favorite cake flavors!”

          It wasn’t meant to be an accusation, but it did sound as an accusation, and that only fed the Tevinter’s mockery.

         “For just an impression, you seem very well informed,” Cullen replied these words with a grumpy sound as he crossed his arms. Nonetheless, Dorian stopped pinching him and changed his tone to a softer one, almost sweet. “I’ll have you know, though. The Inquisitor’s heart doesn’t beat for me, Commander. I’ll take my leave now, I need to get ready for tomorrow by drinking myself into a stupor. Do join me if you wish. Otherwise, and if I get kidnapped by my father’s lackeys at Redcliffe, then thrown into a ship back to Tevinter, it was nice meeting you.”

          “You will be fine,” Cullen managed to say after a moment of confusion. “Have a safe journey.”

          The mage bowed with a smile and left the tower, not taking the unrest he had settled upon the Commander with him.

          “What… just happened?,” he asked himself, then smiling at the sight of the pastries. He had to admit to himself he was a bit relieved at knowing there was nothing between the Inquisitor and Dorian, and perhaps that meant he was somewhat jealous. As to why, maybe it was because of that time Allen had been… flirtatious with him. He had politely rejected him, but it was nice in it’s own way. And the way Trevelyan cared for him was so honest and sweet he didn’t want to lose that, although that was a bit selfish… if not something else. But  _something else_  was something he didn’t want to really give a thought, not yet at least.

 

          The couple of days that followed were hell for Cullen, since the morning that began with a slight headache ended in a night of intense pain in every fiber of his body, accompanied by vivid and dark nightmares that placed the Commander years back at the Circle tower, surrounded by abominations as they killed his friends, with him unable to move or even turn his gaze to a side. The loud screaming of both human and demons echoed in his skull so hard it made him scream too, waking up in the middle of the night gasping for air, full of cold sweat and with such tension in his muscles it felt like the simple motion of breathing would break them all. He lay still, breathing sharply as the pain slowly drained away, Cullen wishing it would just be a nightly episode and that he would be alright in the morning, but there never was a line between them that day, since it became impossible for him to rest again that night, and the fatigue and stitches all over his body remained during the next day. Suddenly, doubts struck him when he found himself unable to hold the quill still, or stand for more than ten minutes, or simply focus on reading a report. He spent that afternoon sitting on his chair as his hand shook uncontrollably, the whispering buzz now stronger in his ear as he stared at the lyrium box on the shelf. Taking it would make it all go away. He just needed a bit, and it would all be fine.

          The sound of the chair being dragged along the stone floor was barely audible for the Commander. Back curved and walking with difficulties, he reached the shelf, using it as a support as he opened the kit. Inside, a small flask shone blue.

          “You are doing the right thing, Cullen,” Cassandra’s voice talked in his head, words spoken in Kirkwall, when he told her he would quit taking lyrium.

          He was now holding the magical fluid in his hand.

          “I think you are brave,” he heard Allen say, “and I respect you for this.”

          His legs failed him and he crumbled onto the floor, the lyrium container breaking and spilling all over the stones. Cullen instinctively crawled back, away from the shinning puddle like a scared child. And like one, he remained sitting in the corner, arms around his legs as he lowly sobbed. He couldn’t continue this path anymore.

         

        He managed to rest a bit more that night, and the next morning he wasn’t feeling as terrible, but that didn’t change his decision. Despite all he tried, with episodes like that he felt his ability to lead the forces of the Inquisition was heavily compromised, so he went to find Cassandra, who was writing a letter inside the building next to the tavern. She smiled as he approached her.

          “What do you need, my friend?”

          “We must talk…,” he said with severity, causing the Seeker to frown and stand up.

          “Are you well?”

          “I am not,” he grunted, “I want you to recommend a replacement for me. Today.”

          “Why would I do such a thing?,” her eyebrows furrowed and her arms crossed.

          “Because I am getting worse, and I won’t see the Inquisition compromised because of this.”

          “You would throw away all you’ve accomplished because of a bad day? Are you conscious on what you are asking me to do?”

          “This isn’t a bad day,” Cullen muttered, his hands turning into fists as the memories of the pain and fear returned to him. But he didn’t want to get further. Not with her, since she wasn’t even trying to get in his place.

          “You asked for my opinion and I gave it. Why would you expect it to change?”

          “I expect you to keep your word. What this is doing to me is relentless, I can’t even-”

          “You give yourself too little credit. You have come very far already,” she interrupted him.

          “Cassandra, if I’m unable to keep what vows I kept, then none of that matters. Don’t you see that? Would you rather save face than admit that-,” in that moment, Trevelyan entered the room with a look that suggested he had heard part of that. Cullen regained his composure and looked at the Seeker. “We will speak of this later,” after that, he turned to Allen, and with a low voice he said: “Forgive me.”

          “And they say I’m stubborn… this is ridiculous!,” he heard the woman say as he left the building, then headed to his tower.

          Unlike what he had thought, the conversation with Cassandra hadn’t been of much help, and it only got him even more confused and right back to where he started. He didn’t want to leave the Inquisition, not when so much needed to be done, but he couldn’t be at his best while the lack of lyrium took so much from him, and taking it again would mean giving up and stepping into the Order once more. He didn’t want either of them, and he felt unable to make a decision, which frustrated him. It angered him so much he violently took the stupid box and threw it across the room, it hitting the wall next to the door just as the Inquisitor was coming in.

          “Maker’s breath! I didn’t hear you enter!,” Cullen quickly said, as Allen looked at the scattered pieces of the lyrium kit. “Forgive me…”

          “Do you want to talk about it?”

          “You don’t have t-,” he groaned and stumbled, sustaining himself with the help of his desk. Allen made an attempt to go help him, but he stopped at the Commander’s sign. “I never meant for this to interfere.”

          “Will it pass?”

          “Yes… I don’t know,” Cullen replied, Allen wanted to talk but got interrupted by the Commander’s rushing words. “You asked what happened to Ferelden’s Circle during the blight. The tower was taken over by abominations and the Templars— _my friends_ —were slaughtered,” the painful memories made him pause, the Inquisitor silent as he gave him adn indecipherable look. Cullen turned around and looked out the window, speaking now in frustration as he projected his thoughts over the white snowy mountains. “I was tortured. They tried to break my mind and I...,” a bitter laugh, “how can you be the same person after that? Still, I wanted to serve, and I got sent to Kirkwall, where once more things got out of hand. I trusted my knight-commander and all we got from her fear of mages was a madness that resulted in the fall of Kirkwall’s Circle. So many innocent people died in the streets that…,” he turned to the Inquisitor again, exasperated. “Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

          “Of course I can, Cullen, I-”

          “Don’t!,” Cullen abruptly interrupted him, speaking with regret. “You should be questioning what I’ve done,” he began moving nervously from one side of the room to the other, “I thought this would be better. I thought by doing this I would regain some control over my life, but… these thoughts won’t leave me! They claw inside of me and I feel like they are ripping me apart… How many lives depend on our success? I can’t risk them, I swore myself to this cause! I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry… I should be taking it!,” the bookcase shook as his fist unleashed all of his fury on it’s wood, some books falling from the structure as it trembled. Cullen closed his eyes and breathed, speaking lowly now, resigned, “I should be taking it…”

          He heard some cautious footsteps towards him, then Trevelyan’s warm hand gently covered his, his fist relaxing under Allen’s touch. He opened his eyes and met the Inquisitor’s, which were full of emotion. He then realized how much information he had just thrown on him and how worried he had made Allen, but he couldn’t find the words to apologize for it.

          “Cullen…,” Trevelyan finally spoke, a bit shaken, “I’m not going to pretend like I know what you have been through… or what you are currently enduring. But if these past months have shown me something is that we must never lose faith, for only then we are truly lost. And I don’t speak about Gods or legendary heroes. In ourselves. You have to believe in you. So, tell me, do you want to take lyrium again?”

          “No,” he replied without looking away, despite how close they both were. “But it’s not that simple. Days when I can’t stand, or even hold a quill… they aren’t really hopeful.”

          “Then, it’s good you are not alone. You have friends here, Cullen. People that care for you and are willing to help you, like Cassandra, or Leliana, or me. But you need to let us do it. You need to let us in. I will gladly be your support and I’ll be happy to hold the quill for you when you need it, but you have to call me.”

          “I… I don’t know what to say,” he said, really moved.

          “Say you will.”

          “I’ll try, I swear. Even at times like this, when hope seems to be gone.”

          “Actually, stay here,” Trevelyan stepped back, Cullen only remembering the Inquisitor’s hand had been on his all that time when he took it away. “I will be right back.”

          Before the Commander could ask, the man left, crossing the bridge to the fortress in trots. He had to admit letting that off his chest had really helped him. That, together with Allen’s speech, reminded him of why he should push forward. And he had to give Cassandra some credit, too, since he now saw her attitude came from her trust in him and not pride. If only he had the ability to do the same…

          Allen returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a lute with him.

          “What is that for?,” he asked, curiously.

          “I intend to put some sense into you by smacking you with it,” Allen said, wielding the instrument over his shoulder, causing Cullen to chuckle a bit. “You did say you wanted to listen to me sing and play, so this is your chance. And for free.”

          “I… appreciate it, but I’m not really in the mood for a song now.”

          Allen ignored his comment and sat on the couch, then shook his head indicating the Commander to sit next to him. “Trust me, this is a special one.”

          “Very well…,” he scratched his head and sat next to him.

          “I didn’t find any tabs for it, so I had to make up something. I hope it’s good,” he said, as his fingers gently pulled the cords, filling the tower with a calm melody that felt familiar to Cullen. The Inquisitor then closed his eyes and began humming with the notes, then sang lyrics that had forever been stuck in Cullen's memory. “Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come,” a wide smile instantly formed in the former templar’s lips as he recognized the lyrics, which sounded peaceful and tender in Allen’s voice. “The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come,” he then opened his eyes and looked at Cullen with a warm smile, nodding him so he joined.

          “The shepard’s lost, and his home is far. Keep to the stars, the dawn will come,” he followed, causing the Inquisitor’s smile to widen.

          “The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the stars, for one day soon,” they both sang, Allen then going quiet to let Cullen pronounce the final words, “the dawn will come.”

          Trevelyan chuckled as he played the last chords of the song, which had truly made Cullen forget about everything for the time of it. He had then realized he hadn’t seen the Inquisitor smile like that since the tavern, and he had missed it. It was the type of smile that made you smile too, contagious like the melody they had just shared, and it seemed different to him now. Sure, it looked like always, perfect teeth showing and lips stretched, causing the almost imperceptible scar on the lower lip to go wider. But it felt even more confortable now. Being close to him felt a lot more confortable now, actually. Something had definitively changed, and it scared him a little bit to describe it with words, even in his mind, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips. Suddenly, the smile became shy, and Cullen realized Allen had noticed him staring for too long to his lips.

          “You… have a beautiful voice,” the Herald said, looking down to his lute as he distractedly played a few notes, his cheeks visibly going red.

          “As do you,” he replied, a bit flustered as well, but with a calm voice. “Thank you. For all of this. I am feeling much better now… For a moment, I thought I was done for.”

          Trevelyan looked back at him after taking a breath. “I’m… really glad you are feeling better.”

          By his stare, it seemed to Cullen like he was trying to figure him out, and he went ice cold when the Inquisitor suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against his forehead.

          “I will let you rest now,” he then said as he stood up, seeming both confused and embarrassed. After that, he almost ran to the door and left the tower, Cullen remaining still as a statue.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching POVs starting with Allen and returning later on to Cullen

          “… after that, we left Redcliffe,” Allen finished, Leliana and Josephine leaning on the war table as they listened to his report.

          “Poor Dorian, how is he feeling?,” the Antivan asked.

          “Confused, mostly… didn’t help that as soon as we arrived Mother Giselle began harassing him.”

          “She was just concerned, from what I overheard,” Leliana’s words showed some disapproval on the Inquisitor’s tone, but Trevelyan didn’t daunt.

          “Is that how they call “spreading rumors” in Orlais?”

          “That’s not what she-”

          “That’s exactly what she ended up doing, even if it wasn’t her intention.”

          Josephine chuckled as the two rogues performed a silent duel.

          “I am not surprised at that rumor,” she sighed, “Not when people are pairing you with almost every member of the Inquisition. Including us.”

          Allen’s cheeks slightly blushed, his gaze lost somewhere in the drawn deserts of the map of Orlais, making Leliana smile as she stood behind the table and crossed her arms.

          “I heard they are particularly interested in you and the Qunari.”

          “I… beg your pardon?,” Trevelyan blinked as he felt his body go cold, poorly hiding his surprise, to which Josephine quickly reacted by getting a bit more serious.

          “We… thought you knew. We could try to stop the story from getting any bigger, but enough people heard it first hand.”

          “First hand,” he repeated. “Who did they hear this from?”

          “Commander Cullen and Iron Bull himself, apparently,” the Lady Nightingale spoke.

          “I’m going to kill them,” the Inquisitor slowly put his head in his hands.

          “Is it true, then?,” Josephine inquired, sounding so eager to know that it made Trevelyan uncomfortable. More, if possible.

          He answered with a groan as he laid on the table, so embarrassed he wished he could merge with it and disappear for a few days. All this was something he would have rather left in the past. Only him, Iron Bull and Cassandra knew of this encounter, and the latter just because Allen desperately needed someone to talk about his guilt and weariness regarding the matter. It was already awkward enough walking around the tavern when no one knew about it. Now, the Fade seemed preferable to the indiscreet looks and whispers that he would have to endure for a long time, and that wouldn’t bother him as much if he wasn’t feeling so terrible about it.

          “What… did Bull say?”

          “He…,” the Ambassador coughed, “discussed your… affair. He wasn’t short on words to describe your… certain parts of your body.”

          “Sweet Maker…”

          “Could be worse,” Leliana giggled, “at least he said positive things. Do not discard getting more than a few proposals in the following weeks.”

          Allen sighed and stroked his forehead as he attempted to calm down. He wasn’t concerned about receiving letters, he had already burned some. It wasn’t really about people knowing about Bull either. People would talk and stare for a while, yes, but it wasn’t as if that wasn’t already happening. However, the fact that Cullen knew of this was what really troubled him, and at the same time, the fact  _that_  was bothering him worried him even more, for perhaps he was getting into something he should have stayed away from. Perhaps he was walking the path of pain again, and in a way it seemed like the Commander was leading—or misleading—him in that way. Or perhaps it was all in his mind and this would be just one more thing to add to his growing guilt.

          “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me…”

          Both women bowed and the Inquisitor left the war room, taking his time to go into the main hall. The idea of everyone knowing about it was so present in his mind that it felt like even the people wearing masks were quietly staring at him, silently judging each step and facial movement he did as he walked towards the big doors, but he decided to enter the mage’s tower instead. That way he would avoid most people on his way to Cullen’s office. And it did feel nice for a minute, not having all those nobles watching him.

          “Inquisitor,” Solas greeted Allen with his usual seriousness, barely rising his gaze from some elven documents over his desk.

          “Solas,” he replied in equal uninterested tone in any further conversation, then reached the door to the right, leading to the bridge that directly conducted to the Commander. It wasn’t a long trail, but as he came closer to the entrance his stomach sank deeper, the Inquisitor for once concerned there were no railings at both sides, under the impression it was a suspended wooden bridge rather than a stone one. He was scared, he had been scared since last night, when the Commander and him had shared a somewhat intimate moment and a common look that had somehow solidified a feeling that was now a lump in his throat. He didn’t just like Cullen, which was already terrifying, but he had been noticing signals. And now, as he faced the door and his whole body was tense and in shivers, he didn’t know what he wanted to do, if confessing his feelings, asking about what he had talked about with the Bull or just screaming like an angry banshee. At least he hoped not to do the three at the same time, and as he did, he knocked on the wood, letting the air in his lungs out as Cullen said: “Come in!”

          The Commander was sitting on his desk, reading a letter. He would have joked about why he had a chair then, but he was short on words, and when the man looked up at him and gave him a wide and shinning smile, he just felt like crawling below a table.

          “Good morning, Inquisitor. I know you wanted me to take the day off, and I appreciate it, but there’s so much that requires my attention right now. I trust the meeting went fine?”

          “Yes,” Allen said in a deep breath, after which he stood quiet, with his mouth half open but not saying much more.

          “Are you alright?,” the Commander reached to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

          “I… may I speak to you? In private?”

          Just as if he had read the Inquisitor’s mind, Cullen blushed and scratched his head.

          “In… private? I mean, sure…”

          Allen panted lowly and took the door to the left, nervously rubbing his hands as he walked through a part of the battlements that was usually empty. As he tried to gather his thoughts, he heard the Commander awkwardly speak next to him as he followed.

          “It’s… quite a nice day, right?”

          “What?,” the man asked as such question shook him out of his mind.

          “Maker’s breath… you wanted to tell me something?”

          He noticed he was just as nervous as he was, and the only thing that came to mind as he looked at Cullen was the way he had stared at his lips last night, which led him to a groan as he asked what he wanted to avoid.

          “Cullen… is something happening between us?,” and before the Commander could even react, he quickly justified himself, “because I’ve noticed some things and… I’m getting confused.”

          “What.. do you mean?,” Cullen turned his head to the mountains to evade eye contact.

          “You have been asking around about my affairs. Dorian mentioned you asked about us. And… you talked with Bull about… and I’ve noticed a few looks from you… the other day at the war room, yesterday… If this is all just in my imagination, do tell me.”

          Cullen sighed, taking his time to answer.

          “And if it isn’t?”

          “But… in Haven you said…”

          “I know what I said,” he muttered, turning to Allen, “and maybe I was wrong. Maybe… I just…,” he covered his face with his hands as he groaned.“Andraste, this is harder than I thought… I just didn’t think… I… care for you. In a way I didn’t think was possible. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time… it’s been a while since I let anyone in my life. I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused too…”

          A tear fell down Allen’s cheek, since this was something he wasn’t expecting at all, and it turned to be more painful than a straight up rejection could have been, and when the Commander noticed, a worried look appeared on his face as his hand went to the Inquisitor’s cheek.

          “Allen?”

          “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that. I shouldn’t have said anything, please forgive me.”

          “Allen? What is it?”

          “I can’t explain right now,” he said as his voice cracked, “but I can’t afford to be your mistake, not if you are not sure about what you feel. I’m really sorry I got you into this situation…”

          He gently put Cullen’s hand away from his face and turned around, but the Commander grabbed his arm and stopped him.

          “Wait. Don’t leave me alone.” A plea that came out sounding like a desperate bed.

          Trevelyan bitterly smiled at him and shook his head.

          “If I can’t leave or stay, what am I supposed to do?”

          “Nothing,” Cullen simply said as he took a deep breath, “you are concerned about hurting me. Then don’t. Let  _me_  take the risk. Let me try.”

          “Try what?”

          Cullen placed his hands on both sides of the Inquisitor’s face, who gasped at his touch, and began to pant as the Commander’s face came closer to his, a mixture of fear and determination in his gaze that fade away as both of them closed their eyes and their lips merged in a brief and static kiss. When Cullen slowly pulled back, Allen didn’t dare open his eyes and he made a terrible effort to keep his breathing low and controlled. He couldn’t think much, he couldn’t even make conclusions from that contact. He only could ask a whispered “so?”.

          “I want more,” was what Cullen hungrily replied before kissing him again, more passionately this time, using his lips to part Allen’s, who then felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And as the fear they both shared slowly dissipated too, Trevelyan recovered some of his boldness and ventured into the man’s lips, savoring them as his fingers tangled in his golden curls. The taste of elfroot suggested the Commander was properly taking care of himself, which made Allen smile and softly bite and pull his lower lip as they separated.

          “That… was very nice,” Cullen shyly smiled as he blushed, making Allen smile too.

          “Are you sure of this?,” he asked, nonetheless, not yet fully at ease.

          “You have a lovely smile,” he used as an answer, and he then embraced Trevelyan.

          “I wish you would answer more clearly,” he protested, but soothed as he buried his face and took comfort in the Commander’s neck.

          “I believe that is a yes.”

          Both Cullen and Allen turned to find Leliana leaning against the battlements.

          “I’m sorry to interrupt, that was cute,” she smiled, “but I’m afraid I must take the Inquisitor back to his duties. I’m glad to see you standing, Commander. And since you seem to be healthy enough to roam around the battlements I shall think you can also spare an hour at the war room. I’ll see you both there.”

          “Yes, ma’am,” Allen nodded as she left, a bit blushed. “I guess there will be even more rumors now.”

          “I’m… glad we talked, though. Things aren’t as confusing now.”

          “This was… intense. Should we continue this conversation after the meeting?”

          Cullen nodded and Allen pulled back with the intention of getting on his way, but the Commander leaned and quickly smooched him. The Inquisitor was caught out of guard and soon was all red, smiling dreamily as he turned around and whispered “Sweet Andraste.”

 

          The warm light of the sunset seeped through the narrow windows behind Cullen’s desk, although, despite the fiery tint it gave to everything it touched, the cold of the Frostback Mountains was quickly increasing, making Cullen snuggle up in his fur. He finished reading the last report of the day and left it on a pile to the right, ready to be archived. If he had been asked about them, though, he wouldn’t have been able to answer much, even if it were about what he had just read, for his head was totally in the clouds, and it was evident to the rest of Thedas since that translated into a permanent smile on his lips. Both him and the Inquisitor had remained silent for most of the meeting at the war room, with Cullen slightly blushing every time Allen addressed him, even if it were while giving out simple tasks. Things suddenly felt different: that little change that had been slowly growing between them for the last days had completely bursted within seconds. And he had kissed the Inquisitor, on the lips. Remembering that made him blush and cover his face with his hands as he nervously laughed alone in his office. But, even if it felt good to do so, relieving as well, he also felt strange.

          Allen was a man, and he had never looked at men in that way, he could most certainly say he didn’t like men. But again, he liked Allen, to the point he didn’t even care about the fact he was a man, he just cared for him, and he had even… looked, as the Inquisitor had indeed noticed. And these thoughts made him wonder why then this particular man had picked his interest. Was it his smile? He had a beautiful one, with so much faith, honesty and positivity in it that it made it hard for anyone in his presence not to smile along. His lips were also very pretty and the scar on the left side of the lower lip very distracting, and upon kissing them he had realized they were softer than he had thought, which accompanied by the taste of vanilla and the floral scent the Inquisitor always had made kissing him delightful. He also had to admit that, although completely under Iron Bull’s suggestion, he had indeed stared at Allen’s bottom. It didn’t help that his clothes were so tight every single leg movement he made was so remarked. He giggled, a bit ashamed of such thoughts. But even with those things, he had been interested in him before they happened. Truth was, the Inquisitor was a lot more than just a pretty smile and a nice butt, he was a very passionate person with strong convictions and determination, and with a precise ability to listen, understand and care about other people to the point his compassion and desire to help had given him quite a good reputation all around Thedas. And he admired him for that. But then, he had somehow managed to sneak into Cullen’s most intimate zones, being present in his weakest moments. And judging had been the last thing Allen had done, even if according to Cullen he would have had the right to. Instead, he had picked the broken pieces and encouraged him to put them together. He gave him a chance to prove himself, as well as hope, and now when he was in his presence he felt strong to face whatever he had to. He didn’t feel alone anymore, and that morning, when he had asked Allen not to leave him alone, that had come completely out of his heart. Perhaps, that was why he liked him  _that_  much. He wanted him nearby, and his pulse accelerated when he thought anytime now he might come in to finish their conversation.

          Nonetheless, this nervousness didn’t just come out of his wish to spend some time with him without Leliana interrupting them, but also from the sudden doubt that had invaded the Inquisitor when Cullen had admitted he was feeling something happening between them as well. At that moment, it seemed as if Allen was given the worst news in the world, and he knew there was more than just concern about Cullen’s possible doubts regarding their mutual feelings. He had put that at ease when he had kissed him, or mostly at least, he hoped; but there was still something pulling Allen back, and he wished to help, like the Inquisitor had helped him. Although more carefully this time… The attempt with Bull ended up putting the Commander on the spot and Allen in the middle of endless gossips, and he felt terrible for it. To the very least, he wanted to let Trevelyan know he could count on him. Always. But there were still no knocking on his door and he started to wonder if he had perhaps changed his mind, or after cooling down he had realized it had all been a mistake, or if he had said or done something that scared Allen off. He even went outside a few times just to check if he was coming, toying with a coin at his desk and even lying on the couch during the times he overthought things and his heart beat faster.

          Finally, when night had completely taken over Skyhold, knuckles hit the wood, making Cullen quickly stand up and reach to open the door with shaky hands. At the other side he found an unusually shy Allen who was shrunken form the cold.

          “Hey,” he smiled.

          “You must be freezing,” Cullen said, standing aside, “come in.”

          “Thank you, it’s going to be a very cold night.”

          The Commander closed the door and then they both remained quiet for a while, until he coughed and scratched his head.

          “There’s a heater upstairs, we could talk more comfortably there.”

          “That… would be great,” Allen said as he rubbed his arms to warm himself up, making Cullen really want to hug him.

          “Please, after you.”

          And as the Inquisitor nodded and began his climb to the Commander’s quarters he realized the prize for his politeness. As the rogue went up he could clearly see his botoom cheeks contracting and relaxing at each step under his clothes. “Maker’s breath,” he thought, a bit ashamed of himself for staring, but also wondering if after having kissed doing that was alright, or if there were only certain moments in which that was adequate.

          “Oh, they did a great job here,” he heard the Herald say at the top, urging him to go up quickly.

          “Yes,” he mumbled when he reached the second floor, “it’s all very nice.”

          Then, he prepared the heater and offered Allen a seat on the couch next to it, but he rejected it with his hand.

          “I rather stand, my nerves get worse when I sit,” he made a pause and sighed loudly, “Anyways, Cullen, I want to apologize if I made things difficult before. Not only between us, but also with my behavior. I didn’t want to cause even more confusion on you, I’m very sorry. I was just… not expecting that.”

          Cullen rubbed his hands, not entirely sure of what that meant.

          “Do you… regret what happened? Shouldn’t I… have kissed you?”

          “No!,” Allen quickly said, grabbing the Commander’s hands, “I mean, yes! When you did, at that very moment, it was as if nothing else mattered. It was just us.”

          “Then… what’s wrong? You seemed…”

          “Afraid? That I am… Last time I fell in love… well, that ended the worst way possible.”

          Cullen’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and no matter how he tried, he wouldn’t have been able to hide his sudden nervousness. Speaking didn’t help with that, for sure.

          “Y… you are in love… with… me?,” he stuttered, causing the Inquisitor to blush and shyly smile, looking at a side.

          “Eh… I said that?,” Allen nervously chuckled.

          “You… said that…”

          Trevelyan coughed as he regained his composure and scratched his arm as he started talking again.

          “Umm… see, the thing is… I suppose I expected things to go wrong this morning… since I guess I preferred to get hurt before and… not in the long run.”

          “I… don’t want to hurt you…,” the Commander spoke, but with such an innocent and honest tone it made the Inquisitor smile, and that made him do it as well, “I want to be there for you just like you have been for me. And I… want you to smile… I like your smile.”

          Allen let out a relieved sigh and hugged Cullen, who embraced him back, noticing then the Inquisitor was shaking.

          “Thank you.”

          Suddenly, Trevelyan raised his head and kissed him, getting Cullen by surprise in a pleasing way, ensuring him they really were in good terms and things were going well, whatever those “things” were. And now that Allen was the one more prepared for it, the kiss turned out a lot more interesting with the way his lips softly caressed and trapped Cullen’s, making him smile inside. He let his hands travel through the back of the Inquisitor, melting as he noticed how his trembling seemed to calm at his touch. It also encouraged Trevelyan to do the same, though he barely felt Allen’s hands, since his armor was in the middle, so he gently pulled back from the kiss, then stroke the Inquisitor’s arm dearly.

          “Do you mind if I get more comfortable?”

          “Please, do,” he smiled coyly.

          Cullen grinned and took off his pelt, using it to cover the Inquisitor as he removed the rest of his armor. He saw the man blush and brace himself under the fur, which made him strangely happy and smiley. And when he was left with his lightest clothes, he straight up walked to Allen and pressed his lips against the Inquisitor’s. This time, he could feel his hands sneaking under his shirt and caressing his sides as they kissed. Cullen pressed their bodies together and tangled his fingers with Allen’s hair, the heat of the embrace leading them to cross the borders of their lips and let their tongues play with each other. At some point, Allen bit Cullen’s lip and pulled back.

          “You know, it’s hard to have doubts when you kiss me like that…”

          The Commander chuckled and rested his forehead against the Inquisitor’s, where they remained in a peaceful silence for a few seconds.

          “Come, I want to show you something,” he said then, walking towards his bed, where he lied leaving a place for Trevelyan next to him, “It’s probably a bit silly, but…”

          Allen slowly got near the bed, still wrapped in the pelt, but doubted for a second.

          “I… should I take off my boots? I don’t want to make your bed dirty.”

          “Sure, make yourself at home.”

          The Inquisitor nodded and undid the laces of his shoes, leaving them next to the bed before lying on it next to the Commander, but politely saving some space between them.

          “You… have a hole in the ceiling. I thought they had completely repaired the tower.”

          Allen referred to a gap between the wooden planks that brought some sky into the room.

          “I did that,” Cullen chuckled, “having an opening there gives me peace, makes me feel less like I’m trapped in a box. There are a lot of stars some times, and some others the moon covers the entire hole. It’s very nice.”

          “It does sound really beautiful. And I can get what you mean. It does make one feel sort of… peaceful and free.”

          “Yes,” the Commander turned his face to Trevelyan, and when their eyes met, the Inquisitor quietly gasped, understanding what Cullen was really trying to confess to him.

          “Thank you for showing me that, I will keep it in mind,” he said with the severity of a promise. Cullen smiled appreciative of it and looked for Allen’s hand, who reacted to their touch by tangling their fingers.

          “I don’t like the idea of you returning now. It’s so cold outside I wouldn’t want you to freeze.”

          “The distance between the door and the main hall isn’t enough to freeze a person,” Allen smiled.

          “But still enough for you to get a cold,” he insisted, stroking the Inquisitor’s hand with his thumb.

          “I like to think I’m stronger than that.”

          “Well, I… I want you to stay,” Cullen admitted, instantly feeling embarrassed at his own words.

          Trevelyan giggled shyly, but then moved his body closer to the Commander’s, resting his head on his chest.

          “See? You only had to ask,” Allen softly spoke as he tenderly stroke Cullen’s side, who felt his cheeks blush and again that strange feeling of warmth inside him. He used his left hand to press the Inquisitor closer to him and then covered them both with the blankets.


	8. Chapter 8

        The sun sneaked through the windows of the tower and caressed Cullen’s cheeks like a lover’s warm hand, lighting his sleeping face and making his golden and messy curls shine. The curve of his lips trembled as he slowly opened his eyes, although for a moment he felt confused, since next to him he only found the shadow from the diamond shaped bars that formed the window drawn over the sheets. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then looked around, but found no trace of the Inquisitor. There was, however, a note over the side table and next to it, a small sweet roll that smelled of lemon and cinnamon. He stretched his arm and took the letter, filled with the Inquisitor’s elegant calligraphy. He sat with his legs crossed and bit his lip as he began to read.

_         Dear Cullen, _

_         Sorry for leaving without a goodbye, but you seemed so calm and serene I did not dare wake you up. I did dare, however, to take the liberty of stealing a last kiss from you, I wanted to have that before departing to the Hinterlands. I am not certain of how long this journey will take, but I can assure you every minute I will be missing you. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing the pelt you covered me with last night, but it smells just like you, and since I won’t have you with me for the next days it might at least make me feel closer to you, although nothing will compare to the feeling of being in your arms. Thank you. _

_         Yours, _

_         Allen _

        Cullen felt his cheeks burn as they went redder than ever, a stupidly wide smile forming in his lips as he embraced the letter and chuckled. He then covered his face with his hands deeply embarrassed and thanked no one could see him at that very moment, but overall, he felt happy. Unusually happy. And he hoped the Inquisitor would be back as soon as possible, because he had an irrepressible need of kissing him. As the air came out of his lungs in a long sigh he wondered if he was falling in love with this man, or if he already was. And, if that was the case, what happened then? What would that mean to them and the Inquisition? Although… being the Commander and the Inquisitor hadn’t really stopped them from getting closer than it was expected of them, so what could?

_         Corypheus _ . The name flashed in Cullen’s mind as the image of the Elder One and his dragon destroying Haven surged from his memory, once more feeling like a mere child facing a starving huge wolf. The Inquisition had bled after that, and for a while they all believed their Herald had perished under the wrath of the beast and it’s master, if not under the massive avalanche that then covered their former base of operations. Their former home. But Trevelyan came back. He always came back, and he would do it again after he faced Corypheus. He had to believe it, now more than ever, because now he wanted Allen to come back to  _ him _ , and by the Inquisitor’s words it could be guessed he wished it just as much, so if they kept close to each other, if they both believed, then perhaps the Maker would guide them together once more after everything was over.

        But, again, what did being together imply? What did that mean?

        “Sh… should I court him?,” he asked himself as he got dressed, “It… would be appropriate, right?”

        He took a look at the letter, which made all his negative thoughts disappear, and then left it back on the side table, noticing again the sweet roll. He knew he should eat it, but he also felt bad for it in a way, since it was a gift. But in the end, it was a gift meant to be eaten. He finally took the cake and munched it, savoring the delicious cream it was filled with. Suddenly, an idea came to mind: “is he courting me?!”

        Due to the elven magic that still lingered in the stones of Skyhold, the temperature in the fortress was usually mild, but below it, at the frozen lake where the forces of the Inquisition lived, the cold breezes were sharp and unforgiving. The mages helped during the worse days, though, and big blazers allowed soldiers to warm themselves when they weren’t training. Houses from both Orlais and Ferelden that had allied with the Inquisition had also sent tons of blankets and proper clothing against the cold, and that was really appreciated there.

        Cullen wore his thickest pelt himself as he supervised the initiations of the newest recruits. Sometimes, they were surprised by a group of skilled men and women that could fairly defend themselves in battle, but most of the time, they were people who had never handled a sword or a shield. They were eager to learn and fight for the Inquisition’s cause, but that wasn’t enough, they required hours and hours of work and dedication to be able to stand against each other to the very least.

        “Separate your feet, recruit!,” the Commander barked as he noticed a young man smacking a dummy with his wooden sword. He walked to him and pulled back the recruit’s right foot with his own, then stood behind, “A strong foundation equals a stronger hit and will avoid your opponent from sending you to the ground with just a blow.”

        The young lad then hit the dummy, now with much more accuracy and strength.

        “Well done!”

        “Thank you, Commander!”

        He continued to roam around the newbies, making some basic corrections like positions and in some cases, simply how to hold a sword. Around mid morning, he noticed the Iron Bull and Krem holding shields with some recruits around them.

        “Good morning, Commander,” Krem greeted, Bull taking his distraction to bash him with his shield.

        “See, that’s why you must always keep your focus,” the Qunari laughed as he helped the Charger stand from the ground, “Cullen, how’s it going?”

        “I see you are giving our soldiers a show here.”

        “The chief wanted to train shield bashing and thought it would be a good idea to show it to the recruits.”

        “Well, and where are your shields?,” the Commander asked the group of men and women. They nodded and quickly went to look for one.

        “You are doing a good job with them,” Bull complimented as he and Krem pushed against each other’s shields again.

        “Thank you. The help is appreciated.”

        Once more, the Qunari managed to push the Charger back, although this time Krem was able to keep standing.

        “What do you say, are you up for a quick one?,” Iron Bull then asked Cullen.

        He gave him a smug smile as he took a shield and a wooden sword from one of the soldiers.

        “You are on.”

        The Bull grinned and charged, the wooden swords making a loud noise as they met. A few shield blocks, some guard breaking and the fake weapons almost cracking followed, although it all ended pretty quickly when Cullen checked if his adversary had learned his lesson. He span around himself and hit Bull on his left leg.

        “Aurgh!,” he protested.

        “You just lost a limb. You keep leaving yourself open on your blind side, you have to anticipate to my hits.”

        “It was a good one,” he said as he pat Cullen’s shoulder, then leaned closer so the others wouldn’t hear him, “by the way, I hope I didn’t get you in trouble with the Inquisitor the other day.”

        The Commander was slightly surprised, but fortunately did not have to answer, since the massive warrior soon turned to Krem to continue their shield spar. Cullen himself had some more work to do, so he went back to checking the progress the new soldiers had done and soon forgot about the comment. Once that was done, he returned to Skyhold for lunch.

        “Commander,” Josephine welcomed him as he sat in front of her, “you look dashing today, are you feeling better?”

        “I am, thank you.”

        “Your smile is almost blinding,” Leliana chuckled, Cullen lowly grunting as he noticed the intention behind her words.

        “I take it you did not take lyrium again,” Cassandra whispered to him with a preoccupied look.

        “No, you were right. I’m feeling stronger now.”

        The Seeker smiled and nodded at his reply and went back to her food. But then it hit Cullen: Allen never, ever, ever left Skyhold without Cassandra. And after a second look at the table he realized all the members from the Inquisitor’s inner circle were there.

        “How come you are not with Trevelyan? Has he gone alone?”

        “Fear not, Commander,” Josephine spoke, “the Inquisitor left with fifteen of our best soldiers. They aren’t expecting much trouble.”

        “He should have taken a mage with him, my dear,” Vivienne intervened, “the situation is still delicate in the Hinterlands.”

        “My spies assure me the fight between the mages and the Templars has dropped to a minimum ever since both of their camps were taken down by our forces,” Leliana protested, “And he is only going to personally check the new watchtowers.”

        “Regardless, I offered to accompany him, but he refused. He wants some time for himself,” Cassandra said in such tone it made it clear the topic was over, but the Enchantress wasn’t done yet.

        “That only makes it even more irresponsible, especially since…” she stopped talking just as a meatball flew to her, magically stopping in the air before smacking her in the face. Completely unamused, she turned to Sera.

        “Buahahahaha… shite!”

        Without being touched, the meatball flew back to the elf’s plate.

        “Hey! It’s not fair if you use magic!,” she protested.

        “Sera, please, stop playing with the food,” the Ambassador sighed, not hiding how tired she was of constantly scolding her over the same matter.

        “My darling Josephine, must we really share table with people like this?”

        “Sera  _ is _ a member of the Inquisition, Madame de Fer,” she politely replied, “she has every right to be here, although if she continues with this behavior, measures will be taken.”

        She was talking to the mage, but her words were shot at the elf, who frowned like an angry child and lowered her head. After that, silence pretty much fell over the table. At least they wouldn’t have to listen to Vivienne questioning everything the Inquisitor did  _ again. _ In fact, she barely complained during the rest of their lunch time, which allowed Cullen to go back to his thoughts. He had been able to catch up with all those reports that piled up during his time of illness and only a few were left. He would probably be done before the sunset, and perhaps then he could give a thought to more… personal matters.

        And it was almost to his calculations, since the sky was still blue by the time he flipped the last piece of paper and placed it over the signed and reviewed reports. There was, however, another letter he did read: Allen’s note. After blushing again at his words, he leaned back on his chair and wondered what he could do for the Inquisitor and how could he court him. But how would he even court a man to begin with? Perhaps he could ask some of the others for advice. Josephine probably knew, but she would try to put him in some sort of tight and ridiculous orlesian outfit, and come to think of it, he would be far too embarrassed to ask her about that. Or anyone. Just the thought of it was causing him a strange embarrassment. There was only one person he trusted enough to talk about this subject, and even then, with reticence. That person was Cassandra, and he wasn’t sure she would have an answer for his biggest question, but to the very least she was one of the people who knew Allen the most. He took a deep breath and stood up, giving one last look to the letter before leaving the tower.

        As per usual, Cassandra was spending her free time near the tavern, although she wasn’t sparring now. Instead, she was sitting on a stump, reading something facing the wall, as if she didn’t want anyone to notice her. He walked down the steps and approached her, calling her name when he was close enough.

        “Ah!,” she jumped when she heard his voice, then turned to him as she threw the book she was reading behind the wooden seat.

        “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to sneak on you.”

        “Cullen, it’s you… I thought you were… never mind,” she stood up, regaining her composure, and smiled at him, “what do you need, my friend?”

        “Um… there is something I want to ask you…,” he massaged his shoulder as he made a poor attempt of putting his thoughts into words, “how would you like to be courted?”

        Her eyebrows jumped as she gasped in surprise.

        “Sweet Andraste, I hope you aren’t thinking of courting  _ me… _ ”

        “No! I would never do that!,” her eyebrows furrowing made him try to fix the mess again, “… since I value your friendship dearly. I meant someone else.”

        “So, you are asking me for advice to court another woman?,” she paraphrased, “That is not bad then.”

        “Well…” he was already flustered by the whole situation, but his embarrassment continued to grow as he struggled to correct her, “It’s… not a woman…”

        “Oh… I suppose the rumors are true then.”

        Cullen felt deeply relieved at his confession, and at the same time quite distressed at hers.

        “Rumors?”

        “I found it hard to give them credit, but some say they saw the Inquisitor and you kiss in the battlements yesterday,” Cullen’s shy smile was enough to let her know that was true, “And you intend to go forward.”

        “You disapprove…”

        “I do not. It will rise a few eyebrows and many will question your relationship, of course, but you both deserve to be happy, even at times such as these. And I respect you for doing it the proper way.”

        “I… thank you. I really appreciate that. However, I’m not sure of how to do it.”

        Cassandra smiled tenderly and shook her head.

        “The Inquisitor loves sweets, especially those with vanilla and lemon. He has also a very sensitive nose and an obsession with hygiene. His favorite scent is that from an embrium, I swear he stops to smell them every time we come across one. I believe he planted some in the gardens. You might want to ask Dorian, too. He might know some more things.”

        “Perish the thought. Last I need is having him mocking me.”

        “Fair enough. Put your heart in whatever you plan. The Inquisitor is a decent man, he will appreciate it.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mucho smut in this chapter

_         “The night is long, and the path is dark.”  _ Especially long. It was expected for them to arrive to Skyhold at dawn, but either the sun was being particularly cruel with Allen or his mind was turning seconds into hours.

        “Inquisitor?,” one of the soldiers brought him out of his mind.

        “Hm?”

        He hesitated, but anyway Allen already knew what he was going to say. It was Alec, one of Leliana’s agents, and he probably felt conflicted between the orders he was given by her to fill her in with a complete report, and the Inquisitor’s petition on him and the other soldiers to keep secret the past week. And still, at that point, Allen didn’t care. He didn’t care anymore.

        “I… nothing, sorry for disturbing you.”

        He added nothing. Alec could do as he pleased, and either way he was too cold to bother speaking, so he braced himself under Cullen’s pelt and closed his eyes, almost managing to completely evade from reality.  _ Almost _ , for the snow and the constant sound of horseshoes on stone made sure he kept in mind he was still somewhere in the Frostback Mountains. Still, Cullen’s smell made him feel a bit better. Maybe, he did care for something after all. And he was hoping that would be enough to keep him on his path. At least until he had faced Corypheus, or in any case, until he felt stronger or didn’t feel anything at all. Whatever came first.

        “Maker...,” he began to pray in his thoughts, but soon changed his mind. “You know what? Screw you. You don’t listen to us anyways.”

        He toyed with the white ring he had on his little finger and clutched the pelt even harder. Why hadn’t he asked someone to come along? Cassandra, Dorian… even Cullen. He was a busy man, but he was sure he would have gone with him no questions asked if he had told him. But he didn’t, did he? After all, such a burden was his to carry, not to share with a man that already had enough on his plate. A man he cared for. 

        Only one person knew what was going on, and that was Josephine and completely by accident.

 

        And there was Josephine two hours later, waiting for him at the gates of Skyhold just as the night slowly gained a reddish color.

        “Inquisitor,” she greeted. “Did you find out anything?”

        Allen jumped down of his horse, which one of the soldiers offered to take back to Master Dennet, and for once he agreed. To answer the Ambassador, he shook his head, not hiding the tiredness and sadness in his eyes.

        “He’s still looking, but the track has gone cold. It could mean nothing.”

        “I’m sorry… Maybe, if we asked Leliana...”

        “No one can know, Josie,” Allen interrupted her, even more worried than before. “Not yet, not when we most need to appear strong.”

        “Inquisitor, it wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure they will un-.”

        “It’s been a long journey,” he stopped her once again, still with a gentle tone. “I’d like to get some rest before the meeting.”

        Josephine resigned herself with a loud sigh and nodded, defeated.

        “Of course, your Worship. I’ll delay it.”

        Allen hugged her, taking her by surprise, but she accepted the embrace. It was the Inquisitor’s way of apologizing for having involved her in that mess, and he really hoped she would forgive him. Once he released her, the Inquisitor gave her a weak smile and then walked away from her, not stopping until he had crossed past the throne, through the long hall, up the almost eternal steps, and finally, fell on his bed. He did not dream, but he rested.

 

        Persistent knocking on the door made him open his eyes once again, and for a moment Allen was confused as to what day it was, or if it was morning or afternoon.

        “Inquisitor? Your presence is required at the war room.”

        It all slowly came back to him, the long journey back, the brief chat with Josephine and him falling on his bed before the sun had fully risen. By how much he had rested he guessed it would be around midday.

        “I’ll be there,” he replied, and proceeded to get properly dressed and groomed. He was still feeling down, but having slept for a bit had given him some perspective and some hope had flourished again in his heart.

        “I’m still upset at you,” he whispered, referring to the Maker.

        Nonetheless, he didn’t linger there waiting for a reply and got on his way to the meeting with his advisors. Eve before he had departed he knew he was going to miss Cullen, but the circumstances made that yearning even stronger. He couldn’t wait to see his face and be in his arms once again, just like the night before he had left.

        As he reached the room he perceived some indistinct chatter that slowly started to make sense the closer he got.

        “I’m only asking this once!,” he heard the Commander speak behind the big doors that greeted anyone who entered the war room. He sounded a bit nervous, and that somehow made Allen smile.

        “Why?,” Leliana giggled. “You have some place to be?”

        “M-maybe so!”

        The Inquisitor opened the door and went inside.

        “Inquisitor!”

        “Good morning,” he said, forcing a wide smile, realizing then that if he looked at Cullen in the eyes he’d probably break down. Despite this, he took his place right next to the Commander and pretended to be paying a lot of attention to the Ambassador as she spoke. It was hard, though, since he could feel Cullen staring at him through the corner of the eye. He understood it might seem like Allen was being evasive for the wrong reason, so he carefully looked for his hand and tangled their fingers together, all while keeping eyes on Josephine. To the very least, Cullen would be reassured that he liked him just as much as before he had left and that he was just trying to be professional in the meeting. And it seemed to work, since he felt the man relax at his touch and even get a firmer grip around him. Actually, at the same time that gesture reassured Allen that there was still hope to be had.

        “Indeed,” he replied to Josephine. “Make sure the nobles in the zone know of it.”

        The Spymaster took the word then.

        “There is one more thing.”There it was. Alec had decided to tell Leliana. “My agents reported a last minute change in your route.”

        “Yes.”

        “They say you went out of your way to reach Redcliffe”

        “Yes.”

        “And that you held a private meeting with a stranger.”

        “Yes.”

        Allen held Leliana’s stare defiantly, creating an awkward and tense silence at the table.

        “Who was this stranger?,” she asked.

        “I suppose the true loyalty of the Inquisition soldiers lies with her Spymaster, and not his Inquisitor.”

        “Maybe we should-,” Josephine attempted to intervene, but the Nightingale was not giving up so easily.

        “That doesn’t answer my question.”

        “Well, that’s the one you are getting,” Allen replied, his distress and annoyance almost palpable, contrary to the usual calm he always managed to keep.

        “Why won’t you tell us...”

        “Because I don’t want to, and that’s it!,” he bursted, making Cullen and Josephine freeze. “Meeting’s over.”

        With a heavy sigh, he moved around the table and left the room, but before he could reach more than half of the hallway, Cullen’s hand on his shoulder made him stop.

        “Wait! Allen!,” he went in front of him to cut his way out and gave him a worried look. “Are you alright?”

        The Inquisitor waited until the Spymaster and the Ambassador had left the place and then took a deep breath.

        “I apologize for my behaviour. It was unworthy.”

        Cullen gently smiled and grabbed his hand, just like Allen had done inside.

        “It’s alright. I just want to make sure that you are okay.”

        For a moment, the Inquisitor wanted to tell him, just as badly as he had wanted to do it that day at the battlements when they first kissed, but he couldn’t, so he pressed his face against his chest, to which the Commander reacted by embracing him. He said nothing, though, and Allen was thankful. He just needed a moment to gather some strength, to feel alive and capable, and being in Cullen’s arms was helping a great deal. There was nowhere else he’d rather be at that moment.

        “Don’t ask,” he begged. “I’m feeling much better already, and this can wait.”

        “If you ever need me...”

        “I know,” Allen smiled as he caressed Cullen’s cheek. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”

        He leaned forward and kissed him. A shy kiss, but not for that less tender.

        “I missed you too… In fact I… Maker, forget it, it’s not the right time.”

        “What is it?,” the Inquisitor asked, visibly curious and chuckling inside on how coy Cullen still was around him.

        “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight. I’m sorry, it was not the right day.”

        “No,” for the first time in that week, Allen truly and wholeheartedly smiled. “No, I would absolutely love to.”

        “Really? Just the two of us...”

        Trevelyan was melting inside at how cute the Commander was when he got excited about something, probably because of how serious he tended to be and how special those moments felt, specifically when they were alone.

        “Really, I can’t think of anything better to do today.” And he meant it. For better or worse he had to move on, and he had learned some chances only presented themselves once, and if you missed them all that was left for you was regret and painful thoughts around what-could-have-beens.

        “Great! We will meet at my tower at... sunset?”

        “I’ll bring the wine. Nothing too strong, though.”

        Cullen giggled and then gave Allen a big kiss on his cheek. After that, he walked across the hallway leaving behind a slightly blushing Inquisitor. But he had said the truth, Cullen had been a reminder that there were still good things in store for him, and that certainly helped him know he was better. He had doubted that pursuing a relationship could be the proper thing to do, and during his journey through the Hinterlands he had thought about it over and over. But in the end, he came to the conclusion that he had the right to try to be happy, despite it all, and if he missed this opportunity he would never forgive himself.

 

        He said sunset, but Cullen was already prepared hours before the sun had even started to go down, but he couldn’t help it. His heart beated wildly, as if it was trying to abandon his chest and run far, far away, and all he could do to try and calm it down was to sit on his chair and breath deeply. He had taken a very thorough bath with a soap that Cassandra had brought him a few days earlier. She seemed visibly embarrassed and did not say much about it, not even where and when she had acquired it, and Cullen wasn’t much more comfortable with the situation to ask for details all in all, so he had just thanked her and checked on it once the warrior had rushed out. By the tag it was pretty clear that it was Orlesian, perhaps from that time they had gone to Val Royeaux back when they still were in Haven and Allen was almost still a prisoner. Aside from that, he noticed the soap smelled just like embrium, and that seemed like an amazing idea considering how much the Inquisitor appeared to like said plant. Until that moment. Right then it felt like a terrible idea. Was it too obvious or going too far?

        “It’s alright,” he told himself, “It’s fine.”

        He knew because up to that moment he had questioned absolutely everything he had done, starting with the place of choice, his tower; the time, by sunset; in his bedroom, on the floor like a pic-nic, but with a heater, and candles, many candles. It was the kind of thing he wasn’t sure if he could describe as too much or not enough. He waved those thoughts away and grabbed a few reports he had on his desk. He had already reviewed them, but he was only really trying to distract himself. Eventually, he reached Allen’s letter and smiled, feeling an unexpected serenity. Cassandra was right, the Inquisitor was indeed a decent man. Everything would be alright.

        The Commander continued to pass his time reading reports until the light of the sun was barely able to show itself behind the massiveness of the Frostback Mountains, and a thousand butterflies began to flap inside his stomach, but this time it was a much better kind of nerves. It was almost time and it felt like the right moment to start lighting all the candles and doing a last check to make sure everything was in place before Trevelyan arrived. And he did not long after Cullen had finished setting up the cushions they would be sitting on properly. He lit the last candle, the one that would be between them, and went down the ladder. He adjusted his leather doublet, let out a quick sigh to infuse himself with some confidence and opened the door.

        “I smuggled this from the cellar,” Allen smirked as soon as he saw Cullen, wagging a bottle of wine in the air. “Don’t tell my advisors, they might punish me.”

        The Commander giggled happily and shook his head in disbelief.

        “Such behaviour is so inappropriate for the Inquisitor.”

        “Hah! Maybe you should have thought about that before inviting a rogue to have dinner with you,” he grinned, and then kissed Cullen’s smiling lips.

        “He he… Fair enough then. Come inside, I prepared the… upper room.”

        Allen complied and went in, almost as if it was the first time he did so, and then signaled the Commander to go up first.

        “After you,” he politely asked.

        Cullen went up first and took the chance to help the Inquisitor up, and even after they were both standing on the wooden floor they kept their hands tangled in one.

        “Cullen…,” Allen whispered in awe, his eyes set on the little corner the Commander had prepared surrounded by different sized candles that romantically illuminated the room, the smell of burning wood and the warmth from the heater adding up to that special feel that Cullen hoped would show how much he cared for him.

        “Do you like it?”

        “Does an Orlesian like masks?,” he grinned, “No one has ever done something like this for me.”

        “Well… I…,” Cullen shyly smiled as he scratched the back of his head, flushed but still proud. “Hmm… Shall we?”

        “Sure. Should we take off our boots?”

        “Yeah, good idea.”

        They both set up their boots on a side and sat on the cushions, one in front of the other, Allen still with a huge smile that highly contrasted the one he had given him and the other advisors earlier that day. He had asked Cullen not to go further into what seemed like a personal business and he was going to respect that, but he still felt relieved that whatever it was, Trevelyan seemed to feel better about it now. It also made him feel better about this whole courting idea, since he had also contemplated the idea of postponing this dinner, after all. But now, there they were, what he had been planning for a whole week was actually happening, and it seemed to be off to a good start.

        “Okay, so… for dinner we are having this,” he placed his hand over a covered silver plate. “It’s called… er… I mean it has mint and chicken...”

        A wide smile slowly formed in the Inquisitor’s lips as the Commander tried to remember what in Andraste’s name that was.

        “Alright,” he gave up, “I asked the chef to prepare something special and he started talking in Orleasian, so I could only catch a few things.”

        “Should anything happen we will hold Josephine accountable for her poor judgement on the chef’s hiring.”

        Cullen snorted and uncovered the plate, revealing a very appetizing dish that neither him nor Allen had ever seen.

        “Wow, it does look good.”

        “Yeah… I was advised to eat it hot, but I’m afraid it’s gone cold.”

        “Oh, that’s a pitty… I wonder if we can do something about it…,” the Inquisitor looked around and smiled at the sight of the heater. “Hold on, I got an idea.”

        “What?,” Cullen smiled.

        “Hush, you wait here.”

        Allen winked at him before taking the plate and the top and stood up, walking then to where the warmth was coming from. But the Commander wasn’t planning on sitting there and soon after he was right next to the Inquisitor, both standing in front of the heater as the plate rested on top of it.

        “It’s going to take a bit, but we’ll be having a properly warm dinner,” as he said this, Allen rested his head on Cullen’s shoulder, and the man responded by placing a hand on Trevelyan’s hip.

        “Tell me, how are the Hinterlands?,” he slowly asked, dearly enjoying the cozyness of the moment and the closeness with Allen.

        “Slightly colder than last time, but still pretty,” he replied, a bit distracted as he placed a hand on Cullen’s side too and proceeded to gently caress him.

        “You like Ferelden?”

        “I do. People always describe it as muddy and dirty, but they’ve clearly missed the green hills, the lakes...”

        “Well, they are a bit muddy indeed…,” Cullen giggled, causing his lover to softly laugh with him.

        “Fine, but it’s still a lovely view. I wouldn’t mind living in one of those huts, to be honest. With a simpler life. Granted, of hard work. But I guess satisfying too?,” suddenly, he bursted into an awkward laugh. “Right, now you must be thinking that I’m a spoiled brat who has no idea of what he is talking about, and you are probably right. I mean, it’s just like that old princess tale.”

        “Tale?”

        “Yeah, with the rich princess and the poor seamstress, both of them longing the life of one another. Then, they switch places for a day and realize that even though the other’s life has indeed great advantages, they are also not as good as they had expected and they soon miss their old routines.”

        “Makes sense,” Cullen nodded. “Although I think I understand what you mean.”

        “In the end, any place can be good as long as it feels like home.”

        “Agreed.”

        The Commander pressed him tighter and Allen placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then, they remained silent, not in an awkward way, but in an enjoyable one, until a delicious smell suggested their dinner was ready to be served. Using his gloves to prevent the plate from burning his hands, Allen grabbed the handles and lifted it, both men returning then back to the cushions. The Inquisitor uncovered the dish again and they both took a moment to enjoy the scent of mint, chicken and vegetables.

        “Maker, it smells amazing,” Trevelyan said before using a fork to take a good portion that he carefully extended towards Cullen’s mouth, “Open wide, Commander.”

        He grinned and did as he was told. With exquisite pulse and a very sweet smile, Allen managed to feed him without spilling even a drop from the sauce.

        “Hmm, this is great!,” he said, and then repeated what the Inquisitor had done. “Here, try it.”

        To his own surprise, he managed to move the fork from the plate to Allen’s mouth without making a mess, and even if he didn’t move as smoothly as him, Trevelyan seemed more than happy to be fed by him.

        “Yeah, outstanding! I take back what I said earlier.”

        “Come to think off,” Cullen began but was interrupted by another bit of delicious food, so he covered his mouth before he continued. “I realized you never told me about your childhood. What was it like growing up in Ostwick?.”

        As they slowly emptied the plate, Allen proceeded to tell him about what it had been like to grow up with his older brother and sister, about how him and his dad were really close and, even though he didn’t really have a bad relationship with his mother, it had never been quite the same, at least not the same as the relationship she had with his sister. He also told him about good days running along the hallways of his estate and the summer days lying on the grass or exploring the forests as he grew older. An innocent routine that later turned into the one of a bard, a part of the Inquisitor’s story Cullen had already heard a bit of.

        “I have a question, though. You mentioned you were four siblings, but you’ve only really talked about your sister and your older brother.”

        “Yeah… when don’t like to talk about Axel. He was sent to the Circle at a very young age. He blamed me for that.”

        “With motives?”

        Allen stared down for a second and then looked up again.

        “Yes.”

        “What did he do when the Circles fell?”

        “Well, the Circle in Ostwick didn’t exactly  _ fall _ . Things happened… differently, so who knows? Maybe he is dead.” There was a silence between them in which Cullen wondered if he had poked too deep into a muddy pond while Allen seemed to be putting a few thoughts into place. Eventually, he smiled. “You seem to get along pretty well with your siblings.”

        “Yeah, my older sister Mia gets upset at me for not writing them as often as I should, though,” he admitted a tad embarrassed.

        “Perhaps you should visit them. You mentioned they moved to South Reach after the Blight.”

        “Yes, they did,” Cullen smiled, kind of surprised the Inquisitor had remembered that detail. “I’m sure they’d love that, and I’m pretty sure they would love you too.”

        “You think so?,” Trevelyan asked visibly flushed, a really cute smile drawing on his lips, a reaction Cullen dearly enjoyed.

        “Indeed. Mia gets very protective with me, but it wouldn’t take you long to charm her.”

        “You might be overestimating my charms, Commander. I would love to meet them too.”

        “I hope we get the chance.”

        “Hey, no such thinking tonight!,” Allen dramatically showed the wine bottle he proudly claimed to have stolen from the cellar. “ It looks like it’s time to open this!”

        “I’ll have a taste a bit later,” Cullen snorted as he got a grip of his tankard full of water.

        But the Inquisitor was determined to open that bottle, so he grabbed the cork and pulled it out with a loud “plop”. As soon as the smell reached Allen’s nose his face contracted in a disgusted gesture and he pulled away, making Cullen laugh in his tankard.

        “You are supposed to do that in a goblet.”

        “Yeah, but I forgot them,” he admitted on a cheerful note, and then went for it one more time, smelling the wine through the opening. ”Yes, good harvest… definitively stepped on by the Divine herself. I sense grapes and unwashed dwarven balls.”

        Cullen spat the water on Trevelyan like a fountain as the man gasped and bursted in an uncontrollable laughter, the Commander himself unable to avoid it even though he was feeling terrible for having soaked the Inquisitor’s doublet.

        “I am so sorry!,” he tried to apologize in the middle of all that laughter, but Allen didn’t seem to be listening. He had laid back, completely lost it and with actual tears on his eyes.

        “Maker, Cullen, if you could have seen your face,” he managed to say as he started to recover and sat again, breathing heavily and drying his eyes. “You got me all wet here. Hold on, I’ll set it on the couch near the heater so that it dries.”

        “I really apologize,” the Commander insisted still grinning as they got up. While the Inquisitor unbuttoned his doublet, he grabbed one of his pelts, and as soon as Trevelyan had set his vest down, he covered him with it.

        “Oh, thanks!,” he smiled, turning around to face him. And then that smile became a naughty smirk. “You know, there were better ways to make me take off my shirt.”

        “Ha, you brought this to yourself.” Cullen took a moment to look at the Inquisitor’s chest under his pelt. He had the build of a rogue, agile but strong and well toned. Somehow elegant. His tanned skin was interrupted by several scars across his torso that made it… interesting. It was like a soft map with markings on the battlefield were fights had been held in the past, markings that had stories behind them, and he’d love to learn about them. He looked up at his emerald eyes again and a mental image formed in his head. “You look like an Avvar prince.”

        The other man’s smile reassured Cullen that he had taken that as it was meant to be, a compliment, even if perhaps it wasn’t the best one, and he was extremely glad he had understood.

        “I suppose I should grow myself a  _ goatee _ ,” he joked, but in such a soft tone it made the former Templar chuckle.

        “You are perfect the way you are.”

        He brushed back Allen’s hair and went in for a kiss that Trevelyan was quite eager to respond to. It felt really special, more than any they had shared in the past, for it was completely free of self doubting, fear, wariness or even nerves. It felt warm, sweet and comfy and it tasted like home, like happiness. Like love.

        They pulled back from each other just enough to look into their eyes and Cullen felt blessed. It had all been fun and intriguing til that point, those fuzzy nerves, the planning, the waiting… but that kiss had changed them both, solidified a link between the two men that was almost palpable, and he no longer had concerns on Allen feeling the same way. His gaze was already speaking for him.

        Cullen softly touched his cheek and then the scar on the left side of his lower lip with his thumb, which the Inquisitor tenderly kissed.

        “Did you notice our scars match when we kiss?,” the Commander asked, his finger still caressing Allen’s lip. He had realized this before they had even kissed, that day when he couldn’t take his eyes off from those lips and kept wondering what it would be to feel them against his. The answer was a perfect match.

        “They do?,” Trevelyan asked, “Show me.”

        Once more they melted into a deep kiss that lasted until the Inquisitor’s whispering voice interrupted it.

        “Cullen, caress me,” he pleaded as one hand wrapped around the Commander’s waist and the other softly buried into his golden curls, so gently and precise in touch that the man would have moaned if the Inquisitor hadn’t locked their mouths again. And to that plea, already well argued with such a sweet touch, Cullen had little choice but to comply. Not like he wasn’t already desiring to feel his skin. So he let his hands sneak under the pelt that barely covered the Inquisitor’s torso and placed them on his sides, moving up his soft and warm back as they kissed. He could feel Trevelyan’s smile, and without parting their lips he took the Commander’s hands and ever so gently guided them down, passing over a few scars until he felt the cloth of his trousers, and under them, Allen’s bottom. Cullen had to suppress another gasp and dared to clutch it, his buttcheeks feeling firm and big under his hands. 

        “Maker,” he thought as he felt his body send a thousand shivers down to his groin. He was kind of glad that the Inquisitor had moved from his lips to his neck, because for a moment he froze, afraid at first that Allen would notice his excitement, since he couldn’t be sure if he was the same. It only lasted so long, however, as Trevelyan pressed their bodies together while holding Cullen’s neck with one hand and wildly kissing him on the other side, tickling the Commander so much that loud groans left his mouth. Any attempt to hide his full erection now would be futile, specially considering how tight the Inquisitor’s trousers were and how his leg was pressed right against his pelvis. So Allen had to know by then.

        “Sweet Andraste, you smell amazing,” he whispered right into Cullen’s ear, causing him to curse as his hands went inside Trevelyan’s trousers to feel his butt in it’s real glory, clawing it, massaging it’s shape, his fingers sometimes venturing a bit deeper into the crack between his cheeks to find out it was completely smooth and silky. As an answer, Allen bit his neck and rubbed their hips together, making it clear now for the Commander that he was just as hard as he was.

        “Allen,” he called, rising his hands to cup his face and lock their eyes, “I want to make love to you all night.”

        There was a pleasantly surprised reaction from the Inquisitor, and he visibly made an effort to not jump onto him at that very moment. Instead, he gave Cullen a joyous look and a delicate caress on his cheek.

        “Nothing would please me more than you making me yours, but only if you are certain.”

        “I’ve had some experiences, but I’ve never ever been with or touched another man before,” he admitted, “so it feels like the first time.”

        “You will realize it is not that different, after all. But I apologize for not taking that into consideration. We should take it slower then.”

        “But not too slow,” he found himself saying, which prompted a chuckle from the Inquisitor.

        “Fair enough. How about I take off my clothes first? So you can get comfortable?”

        Cullen nodded eagerly. He was feeling a mixture of a clear sexual and love desire, but also a huge curiosity on his body. Up to that moment he had never even considered checking another man. Growing up he had seen other boys naked as they changed clothes, but never with those eyes, that hunger… He wasn’t sure if he was discovering a new side of his of it was just Allen, but these were all new feelings and thoughts for him and he was enjoying them greatly. 

        Trevelyan had now stepped back so that Cullen could see him in fullness and the former Templar was so expectant he didn’t even sit, he just stood there, hypnotized by the Inquisitor’s movements. He saw him pull down the pelt Cullen had covered him with and saw his complete torso, something he had already seen a few times before. But then his hands went down to undo his belt and the Commander saw the bulge, the shape almost clear as day. He started feeling a bit nervous and licked his lips wet. Fortunately, and even though he knew the Inquisitor could be a huge tease, he did not play with him and did not wait to unzip his trousers and pull them down, revealing all of his body to his Commander. Cullen slowly let out the air from his lungs as his eyes locked on Trevelyan’s manhood, no longer completely erect but still enough to defy gravity. Once more, he couldn’t say if this was a new side of him or just the Inquisitor himself, particularly considering he had no other man to compare to or relate, but the sight didn’t feel wrong to him, it was even inviting. He wanted to know what it felt like to touch it, to pull back the skin that only showed the tip of the head to reveal it all, and how that all translated into Allen’s eyes. He looked there now and could tell he was feeling a bit nervous too, but was still smiling. His eyes suddenly looked down.

        “You can leave that for later and touch  _ me _ instead,” he chuckled, Cullen then noticing he had unconsciously moved a hand to stroke himself under his trousers. He was about to apologize when the Inquisitor took his hands and pulled him closer. “This is uncharted territory for you, right? Feel free to explore all you want.”

        He nodded as his hands travelled from the Inquisitor’s up his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders…

        “You have a really nice touch,” Allen purred.

        Cullen did too and gently moved to caress his neck and then his back.

        “And you have a really nice skin.”

        Trevelyan leaned forward in a hug, allowing the Commander to now see the skin as he was touching it. He saw the scars he had felt under his pelt and he follower their shape with the tip of his fingers. He could also now see his butt too, round and smooth, just as he had felt it. The Inquisitor seemed to take a good care of his body, and it was a quirk he enjoyed. He repressed the urgent need to grab again those beautiful buttocks and directed his hands to Allen’s hips, to which he reacted by stepping back so that Cullen had space.

        “Do you enjoy this?,” he asked, concerned that it might not be as pleasing for Trevelyan as it was for him.

        “I enjoy you.”

        More encouraged, Cullen kept on his quest of discovering how every part of that man felt like. His palms went up Allen’s ribs, also feeling his abs until he reached the pecs, noticing how his nipples had gone hard. Using his thumbs, he gently pressed on them, widely smiling when his lover closed his eyes.

        “Does that feel good?”

        Allen nodded with a low humming and the Commander kept fondling them, drawing circles with his fingers until a melodic chuckle escaped the Inquisitor’s lips.

        “Now you are teasing.”

        They both looked down, the Inquisitor hard against his leg. He felt oddly proud of himself and it clearly showed in his smile, one Trevelyan did not miss.

        “Don’t you get smug now,” Allen joked, and Cullen kissed him in a chuckle, keeping his left hand on Trevelyan’s chest and venturing his right down his stomach, following the thin trail of hair that began under his navel and led to the base of his sex. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around it. It felt hard, but soft and warm, different to his own but still pleasing. He bit his lower lip as he slowly pulled back the foreskin and revealed the glans, which he stroke just as curiously and delicately as he had done with his nipples, turning to the Inquisitor to take delight on the pleasure on his face. He kept on it as he locked lips with him once again, releasing him some time later to cup his sack, the last part left for him to check from Allen. They too felt smooth and round inside his hand, sort of playful as he massaged them with his fingers.

        “I could spend hours exploring your body,” he confessed, not yet letting go Allen’s pouch.

        “I hope there’s intention behind those words, Commander.”

        They laughed and Cullen pressed their bodies together, softly kissing Allen’s neck.

        “I’d say it’s your turn to caress me, your Worship.”

        With a groan, the Inquisitor began to unbutton Cullen’s vest, but not fast enough for the Commander, so with a devious smile and fast moves he pulled his shirt open and threw it to the floor, then reaching to undo his belt, but Allen stopped him.

        “Wait, let  _ me _ do that.”

        And when he licked Cullen’s lips, he understood what the Inquisitor really meant, and all he could do was to wait patiently for it as the man planted kisses on his chin and down his neck, to which he also gave a long and arousing lick. The Commander lowly whimpered as more soft kisses covered his chest before Allen turned to press his tongue against his left nipple. He moaned louder. It really felt good. Soft lips closed around it and he felt the man slowly suckle while his tongue moved around the sensitive area, sending shivers down his spine and making him gulp, his left arm embracing the Inquisitor’s head while his hand toyed with his silky brown hair, something that encouraged Allen to suck more fiercely, bite and pull. The way Cullen cried out his name made Trevelyan chuckle rather proudly, and as if his task there had been completed, he returned to the Commander’s chest to proceed on his way down, under the attentive and now impatient look of his lover, who couldn’t help but wonder how what Allen had just done would feel on other parts of his body, particularly the one that now pulsated constantly inside his trousers. And finally, the Inquisitor got there, getting on his knees and stopping to lick along a scar on Cullen’s hips, his hands precisely undoing the belt he had left half undone and slowly pulling his pants down. He gave Cullen an intense and hungry look as the base of his erection began to show, his length slowly being revealed as his trousers went down until it was finally released, so hard it instantly went up and bobbed a few times right in front of the Inquisitor’s lips as he licked them, his warm breath on his tip making it throb, and all while he noticed Allen slowly stroking himself below them as he stared up at him. It was the most erotic moment Cullen had experienced in his whole life, and he wished it would never come to an end. It felt like the first time, naked and exposed, but with so much more security, more experience, maturity and an aura of comfort and trust that made it feel absolutely… safe, perhaps. He took a deep breath as Allen’s fingers tangled around his member and, without taking his eyes off from Cullen’s, he placed a tender kiss on the tip. The Commander smiled as he melted inside, realizing it was actually Allen who was making love to him. 

        He shivered when he felt his tongue stroke below his glans to later on sneak between it and the skin. The Inquisitor was terrific with his mouth. Holding Cullen’s erection up with a hand, he gave a long and thorough lick to his balls and another one to his shaft, running up from his root to his head. Cullen named the Maker as the pleasure ran along his body, making his heart beat even faster.

        “You have a beautiful dick,” Allen complimented, but the replied he got was a muffled and incomprehensive babble that continued on when the Inquisitor wrapped his lips around his glans, his mouth feeling hot and wet. The Inquisitor began to suck on it, savouring him, his soft tongue running in circles not leaving a single part of his most sensitive area out of his touch while his hand ran up and down his shaft in a perfect rhythm. Cullen’s whole body was screaming, and so was he, panting and swearing as his mind started to feel slightly dizzy. 

        It had been a long while since he had been that hard, and he hadn’t pleased himself recently, since he had had to deal with too much to care for such a triviality. But now all of that negligence had turned into an urge that sparked everytime the Inquisitor touched him, begging for more and more attention.

        “Allen, this feels amazing…,” he managed to articulate in a whisper, and Trevelyan answered with a wink before taking half of his length into his mouth, causing him to throb and tremble. “Maker’s breath!”

        Cullen played with his hair as the Inquisitor moved his head back and forth, suckling and licking, each time going a bit further in until at one point he didn’t stop to go back, but kept pushing deeper, firmly grasping the Commander’s butt cheeks to pull him closer, making the man wildly groan and bend over as he felt his whole member entering Allen’s mouth and go into his throat. He whined helplessly and his legs almost failed him, having to take a hold with a hand on the Inquisitor’s shoulder to avoid falling to his knees, his free one tangled with Trevelyan’s hair as he kept his head pressed against his pelvis. This man was going to be his undoing.

        Allen pulled back and gasped for air in a lewd noise, Cullen himself needing some time to catch his breath. He watched the Inquisitor clean his mouth with his hand and he gulped.

        “Please, don’t do that again,” he begged, “or I won’t be able to hold back.”

        He meant it. He had almost finished inside his mouth, inside his  _ throat _ , and no matter how delicious that thought felt for him, it didn’t seem like a nice thing to do.

        “I’m sorry,” he apologized with a proud but tender smile. His hair was all messed up and his cheeks were bright red, his lips parted to let air come in and out of his lungs. He looked beautiful, more than Cullen had ever thought. “I almost forgot your promise to make love to me all night. Because that  _ was _ a promise, wasn’t it?”

        He used a finger to playfully pull down the Commander’s erection and make it bob, provoking a soft chuckle from him. He found such gestures somewhat adorable, and they contributed into making that experience just as lovely and special as fun and sexy. He grabbed him by the armpits to help him stand and kissed his lips, well aware that he was going to taste himself. He didn’t care, though. Not as much as he cared about having the Inquisitor in his arms as their tongues battled to embrace each other. Cullen leant and grabbed Allen’s thighs below his buttocks to lift him, his lover helping him by hopping on him, his hands placed on the Commander’s head and neck to keep a good balance while his legs became a belt around his waist. They kept kissing as Cullen carried him to his bed, gently placing Allen down and getting on top of him, their hardness rubbing together as the Commander moved his hips. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor’s hands traveled down his back to clutch his butt and give it a soft but somewhat loud spank.

        “Hm!,” Cullen moaned, “You are really naughty.”

        “The worst,” Allen replied with a defiant stare as he clawed and played with the Commander’s buttocks. He understood it was time to get down to business and the mere thought of being inside of his lover made his manhood pound. He placed a kiss on the Inquisitor’s forehead and sat on his knees between Allen’s spreaded legs, but when he grabbed his erection by the root to steady it, the man stopped him with a gentle touch.

        “Love, you are not precisely small,” he smiled. “Inside my biggest pouch there’s a little bottle of oil we can use.”

        “I’m sorry, I thought being wet like this was enough,” he grinned as he pointed down, which made Allen chuckle.

        “I’m afraid not, trust me, it burns quite a bit.”

        Cullen nodded and went for the item, feeling Trevelyan’s hungry eyes on him.

        “You know, the bare skin suits you so much better than the armor.”

        “This is just for privileged eyes,” he joked, looking back at the Inquisitor when he found the bottle. Seeing him there, lying naked on his bed waiting for him was a sight he would never forget. It was the kind of image he wanted to see every night before going to bed.

        “Don’t just stare!” he urged, playfully inviting him with a finger as he used his hand to stroke his sex, “Come to me, lion!”

        “Rawr!,” they both laughed and Cullen walked towards the bed. “If I’m a lion, what are you?”

        Allen gave it a bit of thought before replying.

        “A fox?.”

        “It suits you,” he lowly said as he began crawling towards his lover, “I like it.”

        He took the Inquisitor in his hand and began to jerk as he got closer to his face.

        “I have a question,” he spoke teasingly, his hand pulling soft moans from the other man. “Do you always carry this oil, or where you prepared for this night?”

        “Wow, Commander, putting me on the spot,” he gasped. “There is no real answer that won’t get me in trouble, so here’s a deal: we forget about that detail and I kiss you instead.”

        “What detail?,” Cullen joked as he handed the bottle to Trevelyan, who gave him his promised kiss. The Commander sat again, still touching him, but paying attention to Allen as he opened the container and dipped three fingers.

        “This might feel a bit cold,” he warned, and he covered Cullen’s member with it. It was a bit cold, indeed, and slick, but the way he was spreading all along felt amazing. Then, Allen placed a cushion under his backside, dipped two fingers into the oil, and pressed them against his entrance. Cullen was about to say he could do that for him, but seeing the Inquisitor finger himself while he masturbated him was almost breath taking. It felt too good to miss, and he throbbed hard when Allen finally pulled out his fingers and said: “All yours.”

        He released him to hold a grip on his hip with a hand and used the other to steady his shaft, gently pressing his glans against Trevelyan’s hole, hearing the man gasp as he slowly went in. He didn’t expect that feeling of being sucked in and accompanied Allen’s moan as the head went fully in. It felt hot and very tight, and much different and better than he had anticipated, and his lover seemed to be enjoying it greatly as well, so making sure he didn’t slip out, he leant forward to get face to face with the Inquisitor and let their breaths meet as they locked their gazes. He wanted to drown in his eyes as they merged into one.

        He started to push, feeling again as if he was being dragged inside, and the deeper he went, the louder Allen whined. Cullen himself was grunting, the pleasure from his sex traveling to every nerve in his body. He was half way in when he felt the Inquisitor suddenly tighten and stopped.

        “Are you alright?”, Cullen asked, worried he might have hurt him.

        “Yeah,” he sighed and then smiled. “ I just need a moment to adjust.”

        Allen tenderly removed the hair that had stick to the Commander’s forehead due to the sweat and then kissed him there. They were both breathing heavily, deeply blushing and pearled in sweat. Cullen nuzzled his lips and kissed him passionately until he felt Allen’s hands pressing their bodies together, urging him to go on, so he continued his way inside, Trevelyan groaning in his mouth until he did a last push and went fully in, causing him to cry his name and claw at his back.

        Cullen could have stayed in that position forever: warm, cozy, connected now with Allen not only emotionally, but physically as well. But he moved, regardless, for he didn’t want to keep the Inquisitor waiting. He started with long slow thrusts that drew passion in their faces. Moans and pants filled the tower as they exchanged soft smiles and tender kisses. Allen’s hands relaxed into silky caresses as his body got used to the Commander’s hardness, making each thrust easier and much more pleasant than the previous. Cullen purred as he felt those soft palms move down his sides, one feeling ticklish on his back and the other resting on one of his buttcheeks.

        “Harder,” Allen begged at some point. Obediently, Cullen sneaked his arms below the Inquisitor to embrace him tightly and spreaded his legs to have a better foundation and did as he was told, moving his hips much faster and rougher, now with the loud sound of the bed trembling and hitting the rocky wall being added to their growls and whimpers. In another situation, Cullen would have been concerned of causing so much noise, but truth was this moment felt so intimate it was as if the two of them were the only people in Thedas.

        Eventually, Allen made them roll, still tied together, and positioned himself on top, allowing Cullen to rest and see all of his lover’s body as he danced on his lap, moving up and down along his length, every single motion so perfect that it sent a wave of pleasure down the Commander’s shaft. He realized he wouldn’t last much longer, and he didn’t want to finish without having pleased his Inquisitor, so the hands he had set to rest on Allen’s legs moved, one grasping his length and the other lovingly stroking his torso. He didn’t jerk him as gently, though, but fiercely and with intention, the Inquisitor soon changing his movement to back and forth, so that he could thrust into Cullen’s hand at the same time. The fingers that had caressed Trevelyan’s chest now sensually pinched one of his nipples, and the Commander watched with pride how Allen’s breathing intensified, his moans turned into screaming and his muscles contracted before releasing a warm load across Cullen’s chest that even hit his chin. He smiled and rejoiced, watching Allen ride him wildly despite having already climaxed, and he didn’t let that stop him from pumping the man either. But as soon as he felt himself about to go, he sat up to embrace the Inquisitor tightly and kissed him ferociously, pulsating inside of him as Cullen let go with a savage growl and filled him with his seed. Not long after, they both collapsed on the bed, Inquisitor over Commander, exhausted, but happy.

        “That was amazing,” Allen grinned as he recovered his breath.

        “ _ You _ are amazing,” Cullen replied as he pressed their bodies together.

        “So… how was your first time with a man?”

        He noticed Trevelyan’s tone suggested a bit of preoccupation and he caressed his hair before replying.

        “I couldn’t say… I suppose I need some more  _ experience _ to judge.”

        Allen caught the hint and laughed before kissing him, but soon pulled away.

        “Wait, I got you all dirty.”

        Indeed, he had been soaked by the Inquisitor, kind of ironic considering how that had all began, but in their final embrace, Cullen had pressed their chests so tight the Inquisitor now needed to get cleaned too, so he got up and grabbed two napkins, throwing one to the Commander and using the other one for himself.

        While Cullen did his part, Allen took the bottle of wine and two empty tankards and returned to the bed, sitting on his man’s lap as he served them the drink.

        “To us,” the Commander smiled.

        “And to ass,” the Inquisitor replied, prompting Cullen to spank him in said zone. “Hmm, I liked that.”

        They shared a laugh and drank, happy that the wine tasted much better than it smelled. 

        “You seem to be quite… experimented,” he pointed out.

        “Yeah?”

        Cullen bit is tongue, and this time he thought his words a bit more thoroughly before saying them.

        “As in… you know stuff, you know how to move. How did I…?”

        The Inquisitor saw where he was headed and gave him a comforting smile.

        “Don’t be silly, you saw how that ended.”

        His words and his smile relieved him. He couldn’t help but feel concerned about not doing or being enough, and sometimes it was harder for him to have a reliable self-judgement, all things considered.

        “So, say…,” he slowly spoke, running a finger along Allen’s chest scar. “Would you do it again?”

        Trevelyan chuckled, took both of their tankards and set them on the side table right next to the wine bottle and the oil container.

        “You  _ did  _ say all night, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me three months to mentally build up this scene and three days to write it down, but here it is, and I must thank Whiskey, Elidoo and Sadira for their help!


	10. Chapter 10

          Cullen had no dreams that night, but considering every time he did he visited the land of nightmares these times were like a gift from the Maker. He opened his eyes and saw blue sky through the crack of the ceiling, soft warm light coming through it. Looking down he saw the Inquisitor, still asleep, in his arms. His face rested over the Commander’s chest, gently moving with his breathing. It was a beautiful sight he had missed the last time, since he had woken up late and by then the Inquisitor had had to go, leaving behind a goodbye letter that had made it hard to think in anything else than him. So this had been something he had longed for during all those days Trevelyan had been away, and it was even better than what he had tried to imagine. He had seen Allen fight fiercely, slaughtering a demon with a single arrow in his hand, and duel and defeat a man twice his size without breaking a sweat. He was Herald of Andraste, the only man capable of closing the rifts, the one who had sealed a bloody hole in the sky. And now, he was peacefully dreaming, cuddled to Cullen with the most innocent and vulnerable look in his face, his lips slightly parted, with a tiny but sweet smile, unbothered by the sun that came through the windows and made his skin almost glow. It felt serene and homelike, and Cullen couldn’t help to let his hand dive through his hair, all messed and far from his usual combed back style, but still soft and silky. Allen reacted to the touch and caressed the Commander’s sides, slowly opening his eyes and smiling when they met his.

          “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Cullen apologized, still stroking his hair.

          “I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming,” he purred, making the Commander smile and blush slightly. 

          “Why don’t you try to sleep some more? After the journey and last night you must still be exhausted.”

          Allen showed a coy smile at the memories of the previous night and placed a tender kiss on Cullen’s pec, rubbing his cheek over it afterwards. He also felt the Inquisitor’s foot gently caressing his leg under the blankets.

          “I’d love to, but it seems to be late already and I’m sure there’s a lot of work to do.”

          “Can’t we just stay here, hidden?”

          “How long until one of the soldiers come trying to knock down your door? All three at the same time,” Allen joked, causing Cullen to laugh, “Come on, we should start getting dressed to the very least.”

          “No,” Cullen replied, hugging the Inquisitor tightly so he was unable to move, “Mine.”

          “Leliana will send Sera to get us.”

          The Commander rolled over him and rubbed his scruff against Allen’s neck, the tickles making him chuckle.

          “No,” Cullen repeated, adding kisses to Trevelyan’s soft skin, “Five more minutes.”

          “Stop,” he giggled.

          “Make me,” he dared with a smirk that Allen answered by biting his lower lip.

          “Have it your way,” he swiftly ran his fingers along Cullen’s sides, searching for the sweet spots that would make the man squirm.

          “Wait, that’s cheating!,” the Commander laughed as he shook, giving Allen the chance to push him aside and sit on his chest, tangling his hands with his own.

          “You should know better than to start battles you cannot win, Commander.”

          Cullen relaxed and let his head fall over the pillow, defeated, but with a wide grin, nonetheless.

          “How is it you always end up on top?”

          Their tickle game and Allen’s last move had caused the blankets to fall from them, revealing their bodies. Had the Inquisitor not trapped his hands, Cullen would have caressed the skin from his sides and down his back.

          “I’m fast and slippery, or had you forgotten?”

          “Right, like a fox.”

          Allen nodded with a hum and leant down to sweetly kiss Cullen’s lips.

          “Come on.”

          The Commander protested with a growl when the Inquisitor got off him and got comfortable to watch the man get dressed. Allen noticed and threw him his underpants.

          “Get dressed or you are fired,” he joked.

          Cullen chuckled and finally obeyed. He got inside his armor and once both of them were properly groomed, they climbed down the ladder.

          “Will you come after dinner?,” the Commander asked. And Allen was about to reply when they heard knockings on the door, and Cassandra’s voice asking for Cullen. The Inquisitor signaled him to stay quiet as he went behind the door, then indicating him to call her in, “Yes, come in!”

          The Seeker opened the door, completely unaware that behind it awaited Trevelyan.

          “Good morning,” she politely said, “I was wondering… Did Allen and you had a good ev-”

          “Yes!,” the Inquisitor screamed in her ear, causing her to jump.

          “Inquisitor!,” Cassandra gasped, ever more scared at the realization that he had been listening.

          “I gotta go,” he said before kissing her cheek and walking out of the tower, “And yes, I will come by later.”

          As he left, Cassandra was left flustered and awkward, while the Commander discreetly chuckled.

          “I trust all is well, then,” she muttered.

          “Yes. It was very… nice.”

          “I’m happy for you two. The Inquisitor is glowing.”

          Cullen snorted and the woman realized her poor choice of words.

          “I mean it,” she puckered her brows, but soon softened her expression and her voice. “The Inquisitor hasn’t been well since we left Haven, but I got the feeling it is more than just Corypheus. Leliana told me about what happened yesterday at the war room, she is worried he is involved in something dangerous.”

          “He hasn’t told me about it,” Cullen explained. “He seems to be dealing with something personal, but he told me he didn’t want to be asked about it, not yet.”

          “Stay close to him, Commander. If there’s anyone he’ll open his heart to, that’s you.”

          “Me?,” he scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. “Why do you think so?”

          Cassandra tenderly smiled and shook her head.

          “You opened yours to him, you let him in, now he-”

          A loud scream interrupted her and made both warriors turn to the door.

          “It came from inside the fortress,” the Seeker noticed, and they both ran in that direction, finding a crowd at the door that connected the main hall with Josephine’s office. Cassandra tried to disperse the group as Cullen forced his way in.

          “What happened?,” he asked, discovering then two dead servants on the floor, a guard with her sword still in hand, and a very nervous Ambassador that the Inquisitor was trying to calm down.

          “The House of Repose, they decided to pay me a visit,” Josephine told him. “The assassins infiltrated the servants. Had the Sergeant not reacted in time I would not be here. I owe her everything.”

          “Only my duty, Ambassador,” the guard replied. “I’ll report this to the Spymaster. She’ll find out how they got in.”

          “This has to end,” the Inquisitor grunted. “This time, the guards were on time, but it could have ended pretty badly.”

          “I agree,” Cullen seconded him. “It’s still not too late to ask Leliana to instruct her spies to destroy this contract.”

          “I will not follow the path of violence, Commander,” the Ambassador insisted. “Besides, we almost have everything we require to elevate the Du Paraquettes to nobility.”

          Allen grabbed her by the shoulder to escort her to the war room, away from the curious eyes and the corpses, and Cullen and Cassandra followed them.

          “Are you certain?,” the Inquisitor asked once the three of them were alone. “Cullen is right, we can still do this Leliana’s way.”

          “All we need is to earn Minister Bellise’s favour, and I already have an invitation ready for you to meet her at a party in Val Royeaux.”

          The woman searched through some of her documents and handed the Inquisitor a letter.

          “Ambassador Motilyet, forgive the blah blah blah…,” he read, skipping most of it. “With deep regard, Marquis Wiscotte. He seems like a nice fellow. Hold on a second, this party is in a week.”

          “What?!,” the letter went back to Josephine’s hands, who sighed ashamed seeing the Inquisitor was right. “I was certain there was more time.”

          “With a fast horse and ship, one can reach Val Royeaux in less than a week,” Cassandra reminded them. “And a reduced party, of course.”

          “But the Inquisitor would have to leave tomorrow at the very least,” the Ambassador protested. “I already tried for this not to interfere this much with the Inquisition.”

          “Josie,” Allen placed a hand on her shoulder, “I’d walk barefoot to Val Royeaux if that would save your life.”

          “Inquisitor, I… Thanks you.”

          “I’ll ask Vivienne to come with me. Her political support could be valuable to ensure the Minister’s favour.”

          “Cassandra, you should go with Trevelyan, too,” she suggested.

          “I will, Ambassador.”

          “In the meantime we should reinforce our securities,” Cullen intervened. “If they infiltrated the servants they could have also done with the new recruits. I’ll give word to the Captains so that they are aware of the situation.”

          Of course, he did not say it, and he wasn’t particularly proud of it either, but he selfishly wished there would have been another solution that didn’t involve Allen leaving again for two weeks. It was common, though. He rarely stayed in Skyhold for more than a week, and it had never bothered Cullen that much until that moment. But the Inquisitor’s job was never done, apparently, and what Cassandra had told him a few minutes earlier had made him quite worried about how this life might be affecting Trevelyan.

          “Thank you, Commander.”

          “I’d rather you moved to the mages’ tower for the time being,” Allen said. “I would rest better knowing Leliana and her people are close to you.”

          “The mages’ tower?! With the raven’s noise and smell?! I will be alright, Inquisitor. I won’t be scared away by this.”

          “Maybe you should, Ambassador,” the Seeker asserted. “This is no time to be reckless.”

          Josephine sighed and shook her head.

          “Very well, I will consider it.”

          “I’ll go speak with Vivienne and let her know.”

          Both the Inquisitor and Josephine abandoned the room, and Cullen was about to when Cassandra stopped him.

          “Commander, I was hoping we could finish our earlier conversation.”

          “Right, you were talking about Allen.”

          The Seeker nodded and spent a few seconds putting her thoughts in order, all while considering what had just happened.

          “Perhaps you should take my place, and travel with the Inquisitor.”

          “What? It’s a two week journey, I cannot abandon my post for that long.”

          He wished he could, but he couldn’t. There was a lot of work to do, many things to prepare for upcoming battles and thousands of soldiers to train. The Inquisition was a force meant to save Thedas, not a game to be played in parties and cotillions. And he was the Commander. His place wasn’t doing amends among the nobles, but ensuring their survival should they need to attack or defend themselves. Particularly after the events of Haven. The mere suggestion felt offensive.

          “I would take over all of your duties while you were away. I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t affect the Inquisition.”

          “It does,” he snapped. “I’m not certain if this is a subtle way to force me into a vacation or if you just want me to get information from the Inquisitor. And if it is the first, I’m already feeling quite better.”

          “You are, indeed. But he isn’t,” Cassandra remained a few seconds staring at him in silence and then turned around to lean on the war table. “I’m no fool, Commander. I might be blunt and short fused, but my heart isn’t blind,” Cullen looked at her in silence. He knew her enough to know there was some serious thought behind that tone. “I was the first one to speak to Trevelyan after the Conclave, and I was ready to have him executed should he prove not to be useful. I was mean and rough to him, but do you know what he told me when he saw the Breach? He said he’d do anything he could to help,” The Commander couldn’t help but to smile. There was much he did not know about that part of their story, since he was battling the demons to try and prevent them from burning down Haven. Cullen had met Allen later on, as he sealed a rift and gave him and his men a rest. He could have never imagined he would be inviting that man to have dinner with him. “And he did help. I took him to the Temple of Sacred Ashes not even asking how he felt. I threw him in front of the rift so he would close it, but that was all that mattered. Still, he would want my company in every mission and every journey, and he would come to see me afterwards to ask me how I was handling things. He cared to get to know me and tried to befriend me.”

          “What are you trying to say, exactly?”

          “That the Inquisitor is shaping the world, but also it’s people. He has walked extra miles to get a potion for a dying refugee or to recover the wedding ring of a widow. He risked his life to save others during Haven’s assault. He has taken the time to accompany Dorian to see his father, he chose Iron Bull and his Chargers over an alliance with the Qun, he will be going to Val Royeaux to save Josephine’s life and her family status. He even puts up with Sera’s ridiculous requests. I could name a thousand more things like these, but in the end, the Inquisitor sits alone, playing with his ring while his eyes gets lost into the mountains. He tries to solve everyone’s problems, even ours, yet no one ever asks him how he is feeling about this life that has been forced upon him, or if he even needs something.”

          “I…,” Cullen walked next to her, using the table as a support as well. he had given some thought to some of the things Cassandra had pointed out, but never seen the big picture. It was hard to miss the fact that the Inquisitor was always looking after his people, and always with a smile that said “everything is going to be fine,” but the woman was right, he did not get half of the love and care that he gave. Instead, they all looked at him in hopes he would save their lives. He wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. Trying to guess what that might feel made Cullen’s stomach twist. How can anyone withstand such pressure? ANd how could everybody be so oblivious to that? Or to the very least, them. His closest friends and allies. The answer came to his mind swift and straight like an arrow, “He got us used to that. To seeing him smile and secure.”

          “We lost Haven, but at the same time the Inquisitor became a new one for his followers. I’d say you know that.”

          The Commander smiled and nodded. Allen had indeed been a refuge when he needed one most, and he had made things that he thought long lost, as well as new ones. Feeling he couldn’t have ever imagined he’d ever have when Cassandra asked him to join the Inquisition in Kirkwall. But then, another memory intruded his mind, “I haven’t been that for him, have I? Back in the Fallow Mire I got angry at him for risking his life to save mine. I told him his life was worth more because he had to save Thedas, and I really couldn’t see why that hurt him so much until now.”

          Cassandra said nothing and silence fell between them, until Cullen broke it with a quiet “shit”.

          “Go with him, Commander,” she then spoke as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “The both of you could benefit for this time away.”

 

          “I don’t recall that piece being there just a moment ago.”

          “Such accusations, Commander,” Leliana grinned.

          “Or maybe our arbiter is doing more than just watch,” Cullen smiled at Allen, who was sitting on a barrel next to the Spymaster, enjoying the chess battle that both advisors were entangling at the top of the mages’ tower.

          “I’d never show favoritism,” he defended himself.

          “Right, as if your kind didn’t plot together,” the Commander joked as he moved a piece. “Regardless, I’ll win anyway. Again.”

          “That was luck. And you should not reply on it,” she made a move. “I hope my victory doesn’t crush that confidence.”

          “Same, it’s quite sexy,” Trevelyan added.

          “I…,” Cullen blushed, “Don’t you try to distract me!”

          A loud and desperate noise from a seat nearby.

          “I agree,” Josephine protested, “I adore the three of you but can I return to my office now, I can’t-”

          Her words were interrupted by a loud raven snarl, which caused the Ambassador to sink in her seat as she covered her face with her hands.

          “Please, let me return to my office!”

          “No!,” the other three replied, and returned to the game.

          “I hope  _ my _ third victory doesn’t crush  _ your _ confidence,” Cullen smiled as he got the Nightingale in checkmate. “It’s not luck, I’m  _ good  _ at this.”

          “Kiss him so he shuts up,” Leliana jokingly told Allen, who chuckled as the Commander’s cheeks almost caught on fire. “Anyways, I expect a rematch. Would you like to take my place, Inquisitor?”

          “No, thanks. I don’t like playing games I cannot win. Besides, I should retire before it gets late.”

          “Good night then, and safe journey.”

          “Thank you, again, so much, Inquisitor,” the Ambassador bowed, “I hope you find the party enjoyable, despite it all.”

          “And I hope the two of you take good care of her,” Allen slightly smiled referring to Cullen and Leliana before heading to the stairs.

          The Commander blinked twice and hurried to walk down with him.

          “Allen!,” he called him, “Did you talk to Cassandra?”

          “I haven’t seen her much today with all the preparations for tomorrow, why?”

          “She asked me to switch places with her for this journey, so I will be accompanying you to Val Royeaux.”

          Cullen could help to chuckle as the Inquisitor’s lips drew a wide smile.

          “Really?,” he doubted, nonetheless. “Why? That’s not like Cassandra at all.”

          “Uhm…,” Maker’s breath, that’s why she should have told Allen. What would he say now? Most certainly not the truth. “Well… could we talk about this in private?”

          “Of course.”

          He discreetly smiled. That gave him some time to think about a proper excuse, so he took the Inquisitor’s hand and guided him to his tower. Along the way he came up with something that would serve as a motive for his company. But before that, and as soon as they closed the door of his office behind them, he kissed the Inquisitor’s lips tenderly.

          “So, Cassandra thought that, since I’m feeling better, maybe I could use some time away. With you. As in...”

          “That’s a really good idea,” Allen understood. “Although it’s a total of twelve days of travel, going and coming in total.”

          “Yes, but it is thirteen days with you,” Cullen grinned, then letting out a sigh, “You and Vivienne.”

          Trevelyan chuckled and placed his arms around his neck.

          “Well, I’m sure we’ll manage.”

          They both leant against each other and locked their mouths while their hands gently tangled together. However, they were interrupted by a knocking on the door, and they barely had time to even get separated when it opened.

          “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Dorian’s cheerful voice said. “Do not stop on my account, though.”

          “Hi, Dorian,” Allen greeted with quite a flustered smile.

          “Wait for me upstairs?,” Cullen asked, just as embarrassed.

          The Inquisitor nodded and went up.

          “No need to be shy,” the Tevinter laughed. “Anyways, I couldn’t help but overhear you saying you would be taking Cassandra’s place. Not that I was eavesdropping, the rotunda is just an echoy place.”

          “Alright...”

          “I was going to give this to Cassandra, but all things considered I suppose this task shall fall upon you,” he took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Cullen. “It’s a list of tomes that might be possible to purchase in Val Royeaux, and I would appreciate it if you could check for me.”

          “Sure.”

          “Much obliged,” he bowed his head. “Oh, and congratulations on the Inquisitor’s business. You did a good catch.”

          Cullen smiled and watched the man leave, then sat on his desk took some other documents he needed to carry along with Dorian’s list inside one of the pouches he’d be taking to Orlais, then wrote down a letter for Cassandra, both thanking her and giving tips on the most important duties she’d have to attend. Then, he went up the ladder and found the Inquisitor had already fallen asleep. Carefully, he took off his clothes and quietly laid on the bed, cuddling with Allen before putting out the last candle that lit up the room.


	11. Chapter 11

       Riding across the Frostback Mountains had been bearable, the carriage to Jader fast and soothing. But the ship… the ship could be damned. It was small, light and fast, but the cursed thing moved like a child chasing a mabari and Cullen soon felt the sea-sickness hitting him like a closed fist to the gut.

       Luckily, traveling with the Inquisitor had it’s advantages, and the group had been given a small but comfortable - or as much as it could be with such waving - room for them to rest. It only had two benches, one in front of another, and an opening on the wall that let wind come in. It allowed Cullen to lie down, resting his head on Allen’s lap as he stroke his hair. Apparently, he had mentioned he got sea-sick on his way back from Kirkwall and Trevelyan had remembered this, so he bought some gingerbread cookies in Jader before boarding that, according to him, would ease his malaise. It had been such a sweet thing Cullen couldn’t help but to chuckle and hug the Inquisitor, even in front of the mage. And the truth was it had helped him somehow, and together with the soothing touch of his lover he was feeling a bit better.

       On the other bench, Vivienne laid elegantly as she read a book, looking over the pages from time to time to check on the couple with an interesting smile. This time, she chuckled.

       “My dears, aren’t the two of you delightful?”

       “Hmm?,” the Inquisitor hummed, distracted.

       “You seem preoccupied. Are you troubled?”

       “Just thinking. I need to convince Belise, after all.”

       “Your best bet might be to bed her,” she said with simplicity, making the Commander snort. “As amusing as you might find it, it seems like a feasible way of getting favours from the Minister, from what I’ve heard.”

       “Welcome to Orlais,” Allen said as he shook his head.

       “Wait,” Cullen almost jumped from his place. “You are not considering that, are you?”

       Trevelyan and Vivienne laughed loudly, which made his cheeks burn from embarrassment. But he couldn’t have helped it. The thought of his Inquisitor in someone else’s arms made him feel uncomfortable and a bit sad.

       “My darling, aren’t you a sweetheart?,” Madame de Fer giggled. “Although you needn’t be jealous, Commander. There are less undignifying ways to earn a favour in Val Royeaux. The Inquisitor has power, and a presence. Even if most nobles won’t recognize this yet, not even they can deny the rise of the Inquisition, and it would be foolish to miss the chance of having it’s leader owe you one.”

       “Kind of like an investment for the future?,” Allen thought aloud. “I am not fond of being indebted, less with a Minister, but it’s worth it if we get that annulment on the Montilyets’ contract.”

       “If we had done this Leliana’s way we might have already gotten this solved,” Cullen muttered, still a bit sour after his shameful display of jealousy.

       “You must admit it is a clever plan,” the mage opposed him, “and a very elegant solution to a dreadful situation.”

       “That falls onto the Inquisitor's shoulders,” he couldn’t help to remark, specially when Cassandra’s words were still so present in his mind.

       “It’s quite alright,” Allen smiled, trying to wave away it’s importance with a hand. “And on the bright side, we get a sunny day without creatures and people trying to kill us. That includes the recruits I saw one day almost hitting a Captain when their swords slipped.”

       “That does remind me,” Vivienne began. “Scandal isn’t something that would benefit the Inquisition at this moment. Remember you are the Leader of the Inquisition and the Commander of it’s troops. Let the attenders continue to believe a professional relationship is the only thing between you both, and have their own wicked stories be just that.”

       Cullen frowned, but said nothing. He was no child, and he didn’t need her to tell him something like that. He was well aware they were representing the Inquisition and he wouldn’t consider risking the Inquisitor’s reputation over a gesture or word that could wait for a time of privacy.

       “At least while the party takes place,” she said, nonetheless. “I do hope the both of you take the rest of the time to actually _enjoy_ the city.”

       “Do you already have plans?,” Trevelyan asked.

       “Yes, a dear friend of mine invited me to her chateâu. There is so much catching up to do I’m not sure just the evening will be enough.”

       “Should we wait for you for dinner?,” the Inquisitor joked.

       “No need, darling. I will remain there for the night and meet with you at the docks tomorrow morning. I would hate to disrupt your intimacy.”

       “I...”

       “That’s quite considerate,” the Inquisitor coyly smiled.

       “I know. But you have been working so hard, both of you. As I said, I do hope you enjoy your time here.”

       Cullen tried not to smile too much. Having a whole day, away from Skyhold, with the Inquisitor, alone? It sounded too good to be true. Although, it was. There was still the House of Repose issue, and that needed to be taken care of. But once that was done with, he and Allen would be able to do as they pleased, and that sounded great. He would even have the chance to talk with him about something that had roamed his mind through the past days.

       Trevelyan seemed just as excited, and even if he was trying to not show it too much, Cullen could feel it in the way he took his hand and squeezed it.

       “We will try, I can promise you that,” he said. “After we get our Commander in a dashing outfit, of course.”

       That part was less appealing, but he had no choice but to go with it and trust the Inquisitor on the matter, and he had to thank the Maker they had convinced Vivienne her assistance wasn’t necessary. Or rather, Allen had convinced her. He wasn’t sure how he managed to get along with everyone so well, despite everyone being so different, but he could be as noble as the mage or as informal as Sera. In a way, he envied that ability to blend, but from a different perspective it also seemed like a tiring task, since in the end each person would demand from him a specific way of behaving.

       Honestly, he liked the way Allen was when they were alone. He was relaxed, polite and educated but also bold, unpredictable and really naughty. He needn’t choose one or the other and Cullen thought perhaps that was the reason they were so comfortable together.

       “I think we are almost there,” Allen’s voice sang, interrupting his thoughts.

       “Finally,” he sighed in reply. “I can’t wait to set foot on dry land.”

 

       He had heard great tales around Val Royeaux and it’s beauty, and not even Cullen could deny that. Perhaps so much praise had made him expect more, though, and that made it feel a bit disappointing, but even then there was something magical in the way the sun made the golden rooftops bloom and the green of the vines together with the blue walls filled with colour a city packed with people in pompous dresses and, in his opinion, preposterous mask. It was quite ostentatious, both in good and bad ways.

       Something he really liked was the smell of flowers and gardens at the peak of spring, gifting the Orlesian capital with a cheerful and gentle touch of life.

       “Pay attention to the bells, darling,” Vivienne told the Inquisitor as she got down of the vessel. “Do not be late.”

       Allen nodded and the mage smiled, leaving then and soon disappearing into the preppy crowd.

       “Alone at last,” he then whispered as he placed his hands on Cullen’s hips and rose his head for a kiss.

       “Your Worship!,” a woman called him, causing the Commander to snort. As they both turned, they met a young woman dressed in a light Inquisition armour. One of Leliana’s agents. “I’m here to escort you and the Commander to Marquis Bourdillon’s Winter Estate.”

       “Is the Marquis waiting for us?”

       “No, Ser. The estate is currently unoccupied except for a few servants that will attend your needs.”

       “How did Josephine arrange such a thing in this short time?,” Cullen asked, both in surprise and admiration.

       “She sent a few missives through Leliana’s ravens and the Marquis was the first to reply. He’s a declared supporter of the Inquisition and was more than… excited to host the Herald of Andraste. He does regret having to leave to Val Chevin before your arrival, but hopes you enjoy your stay.”

       “Someone’s quite the celebrity,” the Commander mocked.

       “Silence, you,” the man replied a tad embarrassed. “One thing is certain, and is that we might have the best Ambassador in Thedas...”

       Bourdillon’s estate wasn’t far from the docks and, according to the agent, it was a ten minute walk from Marquis Wiscotte’s. She gave the Inquisitor a few directions and left both men at the gates of the mansion, a building with the exact same architecture as the rest of the city. It had a wonderful courtyard, nonetheless, decorated with plants and flowers of diverse colours, and an outstanding fountain in the center that proudly claimed the looks of anyone present.

       “This is beautiful,” Allen gasped. “This is Andraste, right?”

       A polite male voice with a strong Orlesian accent answered him.

       “You are correct, your Worship.”

       He bowed. He was elegantly dressed and his curved lips showed below a half mask. Cullen understood he would be the steward.

       “Welcome to the estate, my Lords. My name is Garlen, I’ve been instructed by the Marquis to personally attend all of your needs.”

       “Thank you, monsieur,” Trevelyan spoke with curtsy.

       “Please, allow me to show you your quarters,” the steward guided them inside through the main entrance, a huge red double door with embedded golden details that left Cullen in awe. He had seen smaller trebuchets. “Only half of the building is open at the moment. You will have to excuse us, with such short notice we were only able to set the west wing.”

       “We wholeheartedly appreciate just having a room ready considering the circumstances. All of this is quite generous.”

       “You are too kind, Inquisitor. I will go and make sure they are indeed ready. Please, take a seat.”

       The man pointed to a comfortable looking sofa and left the vestibule, which Cullen was studying completely astonished.

       “Everything here is huge,” he whispered. “Can you imagine living in a place like this?”

       Trevelyan chuckled coyly and Cullen realized the silliness of his question.

       “Right, you already do,” he grinned.

       “Not exactly like this,” Allen replied, smiling yet a bit uncomfortable, making Cullen regret having done that remark.

       “My Lords?,” Garlen called them from upstairs. “If you will, I will show you your rooms.”

 

       Fortunately, they got the chance to take bath before leaving the estate again. They wanted to visit a few places before the party started, so they had to be careful with their timings. But he still bathed thoroughly, not just because they had spent a week travelling with barely a rest, but also because he was hoping that night the Inquisitor and him could get intimate again. It hadn’t been a thing he had given much importance in the past, or even thought of, but there was something in Trevelyan’s touch, in his whole presence. Something neither his or anyone’s hands could have ever made him feel. Smooth, caring, protecting, inviting. No one had ever made love to him the way Allen had, and he wanted more. _Needed_ more, because the Inquisitor gave it it’s full meaning. There was also the trust between them that made Cullen feel so comfortable with him, and even bold and curious. And that’s how he was feeling as he meticulously washed all of his body.

       Once that was done, they met with Garlen in a dressing room. Leliana had sent word to her agent beforehand so she would search for an outfit that would fit the Commander’s measurements, and after visiting a few tailors, she had left four options in the estate for Cullen to choose.

       “This one is tight too,” he grunted when he was on the third.

       “Alright, you said that same thing with the previous,” Allen protested. “Come outside and let us see.”

       He obeyed and showed himself with a frown, like a child who has to bare his parents dressing him up.

       “White definitively suits you,” Trevelyan smiled, winking at him and making the Commander cheer up a bit. “You are not wearing it properly, though, which is probably why it feels uncomfortable.”

       He stood up from an elegant chair and carefully but with trained ability set his vest in place, fixed the shoulders and straightened it all.

       “You also tied this wrong,” he pointed out as he knelt in front of him, making Cullen blush and tense up. “If you knot it this tight it makes wrinkles.”

       Allen undid and redid and then went back up on his feet.

       “Yes, now you are shining. What do you think, Garlen?”

       “I think you will have the ladies at your feet, Commander.”

       “Thank you,” Cullen innocently said, rubbing his neck, which prompted the steward to bow and leave, and Allen to subsequently snort. ”Wait, did I just…?”

       “You did,” Trevelyan chuckled, but then gently turned him to the mirror. “Now, look at yourself, Commander. Or should I say Prince Cullen?”

       He laughed and rolled his eyes, but still felt surprised at his own reflection. He wasn’t used to that type of clothes, unlike Allen, or to everything that was surrounding him. That mirror felt like a portrait of a façade that wasn’t representative of who he really was, and that thought he had had in the vestibule returned to his mind: he was no noble, certainly no prince. Being in that room made that clear, and suddenly he felt afraid of what that could mean for him and Trevelyan.

       “What’s wrong?,” the Inquisitor asked, noticing his gloomy silence.

       “Nothing! I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

       “Orlais does that to you,” he smiled as he rested his head on Cullen’s shoulder. “But don’t worry, you will only have to wear it for a few hours. You were right, though… it is a bit tight right here.”

       Allen spanked his butt and Cullen couldn’t help but jump.

       “You are a bad, bad man,” he giggled then.

       “What are you going to do about it?”

       The Commander cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

       “I think I’m going to kiss you.”

       And so he did, feeling quite better. But their moment was interrupted by an angry stomach tremble.

       “Was that you, me or both?,” Trevelyan chuckled. “Come, change your clothes and let’s get something to eat.”

 

       Having arrived so early to Val Royeaux gave them a couple of hours before they had to be at Wiscotte’s estate, so the first thing they did was visiting a bakery nearby that filled the street with the sweetest and most delicious smell Cullen had ever felt. And as expected, their taste was just as magnificent. After buying some, both men sat on a bench and the Commander watched with delight how the Inquisitor devoured two lemon pastries.

       “You are getting it all over your face,” he giggled.

       “I’m doing it for you, so that when you kiss me I taste sweet,” he smiled, then puckered his lips.

       “What, here?”

       “Oh, I see how it is…,” he mumbled, exaggerating a sad expression. “It’s okay, I’ll keep my-”

       Cullen grabbed his vest with his free hand and pulled him for a smooch.

       “There,” he muttered, flustered but with a wide grin as he licked his lips, provoking a melodic chuckle from the Inquisitor. “You are the worst, but you do taste very good.”

       “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

       The Commander looked around and saw people minding their own business. Children playing, adults running errands, chatting, living. Truth was no one there knew who they were, they weren’t even wearing Inquisition symbols, so to the others they were just a couple of visitors from another country eating pastries. Yeah, that wasn’t so bad at all.

       “Maker, I got you all dirty now,” gently, he used a napkin to clean his lips and then did the same with his own. “Come on, finish that and let’s get to the library.”

 

       After a poor attempt on Cullen’s side to thank a young lady in Orlesian, Allen grabbed his hand and almost ran across the streets following the directions she had given them, leaving behind a trail of cheerful laughter that got contagious and soon got the Commander giggling like a kid. This was different to anything he had ever done, specially in the last years, and it was the type of fun that made him feel a decade younger, even unpreoccupied. If Allen led the way, he instantly felt he could relax and let himself get carried away, and he could have never imagined what a beautiful feeling that was.

       “Wait,” Trevelyan spoke, stopping all of a sudden in front of a toy shop. “Do you mind if we stop here for a minute?”

       “Here? Alright...”

       He followed him inside a tiny shop but filled to the tops with all sorts of toys, wooden and cloth-made alike. He couldn’t help but smile at the tiny wooden weapons and shields, bringing back memories of him and his siblings playing knights when they were children. Allen had a bittersweet smile, though, and he could see sadness in his eyes as they explored the shelves.

       “Allen?”

       “I’m sorry,” he suddenly smiled and rubbed his eyes, but Cullen had seen tears at their borders. He said nothing, though, for he knew his childhood had been marked with a dark episode involving his brother, so he tried to distract his attention.

       “Did you ever had one of those wooden horses?”

       “No,” a sweeter grin now appeared on his lips. “Our dad and my elder brother used to pick me and my sister up.”

       “Good morning, monsieurs,” a woman greeted them. The shopkeeper. “Is there anything I can help you with.”

       “Oh, we are just looking around,” Allen replied.

       “We have dolls and wooden figures on the other shelf, all made by us.”

       “Thanks,” Trevelyan moved to the other stand and Cullen followed. The dolls were very well done, and some of them seemed to resemble important people. “Excuse me, is this the Hero of Ferelden?”

       “Yes,” she giggled. “It’s meant to, at least, based on the stories and descriptions we’ve heard.”

       “It does look like her,” the Commander scratched the back of his head.

       “You knew her?”

       “Yeah… and given the circumstances it’s a face I will hardly forget. And this right here… is this Hawke? The mere sight of his beard gets me on edge,” he joked.

       “I sense a few stories you need to share with me,” Allen grinned, and then continued exploring the dolls, stopping on one. From what Cullen could see, it was an elf. He stared at it for bit and suddenly his mark buzzed. It was just a split second, but still enough for the Commander to notice.

       “Inquisitor, are you alright?”

       “Inquisitor?,” the shopkeeper gasped. “Maker, it is an honor.”

       “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Allen told Cullen before turning to the woman. “Tell me, do you make them on request?”

       “We would certainly do for you, your Worship,” she bowed.

       “Could we get one of each of us for tomorrow morning?”

       “If I closed the shop for the day, yes, most certainly yes.”

       “And would two hundred Royals compensate for that?”

       “Two hun- Maker! Is the ‘open’ sign still on the door? Let me get a sketch.”

       Allen chuckled and smiled at Cullen, who grinned in return despite feeling a bit confused. A bit later, the woman returned with a piece of paper and a chunk of chalk and began to draw. Not much later, she showed them the result.

       “Wow, that’s adorable! Look at your scar!”

       It was adorable indeed. Both sketches showed simple, yet characteristical portrayals of the both of them, and now Cullen really wanted to see them in real life.

       “Oh, I’d like to take this one, too,” Trevelyan added, referring to the elven doll, which he placed inside the inner pocket of the left side of his doublet after paying for it and the other things. A bit later, they were back in the streets, looking for the library.

       “Your mark, is it okay?,” Cullen brought up as they walked.

       “Yeah, it happens from time to time, I’m used to it.”

       His smile almost made him let it go. _Almost_. Nonetheless, a few turns later they found themselves in front of the building they were after and Cullen placed aside the incident.

       He had promised Dorian he’d get some books for him, so he took out the list he had been given and began to search for the tomes as the Inquisitor seeked for a novel to gift to Cassandra.

       The Commander was able to find three of them. The other two, however, were not there, and he wasn’t surprised. The titles alone screamed “TEVINTER”, so he wasn't even going to ask to the owner about them. All in all, three was better than nothing.

       “How can it be that I already found three books and you are still looking for one?,” he asked Trevelyan when he went to find him.

       “Cassandra is quite picky with her reading, I’ll have you know.”

       Cullen took a peek around in hopes to help and pulled one out.

       “What about this one?,” he asked. Allen checked the cover and giggled. “What?”

       The giggle turned into a laughter that the Inquisitor failed to contain, so filled with curiosity the Commander opened the book on a random page, quickly closing it and leaving it back in it’s place as he snorted, his cheeks colored in a bright red. He hadn’t realized they were in _that_ section.

       “Don’t give her that, she will cut you down,” he joined to his laughter, both men trying to go serious as soon as a middle-aged man approached them.

       “May I help you, my Lords?”

       “Uhm, yeah, most likely,” Allen spoke as he recomposed himself. “We are looking for a novel for a friend of us. She likes them with adventures, drama, romance and it’s fair amount of smut.”

       Had he heard right? Cassandra liked to read smutty romances? That was a side from the Seeker he had not expected.

       “Let me recommend you a few.”

       As the man moved along the bookshelves doing some picks, Cullen discreetly took a look at the other titles, something Allen noticed.

       “See anything you like?” he smirked.

       “Me? No...”

       “These might interest your friend.”

       The Inquisitor checked the different options the shopkeeper offered before choosing one. But he wasn’t going to let go and gave Cullen a wicked smile as he pulled out the book both they had been laughing with.

       “By the way, I was curious about this book,” he said, reading then the title. “Noblewomen, a guide for the ladies.”

       The Commander made an effort to contain a chuckle, something the owner didn’t.

       “My Lord, that’s a guide for women who wish to _experiment_ with other women.”

       “Oh!,” Allen gasped in pretended surprise.

       “It is part of a series,” the man explained, Cullen’s attempt to keep himself together making his ribs hurt. “Here you have ‘Noblemen, a guide for gentlemen’ and ‘Nobility, a guide for marriage’”.

       “I see. Have you read these? Would you recommend them?”

       “I can tell you they sell quite well,” he assured with a smirk.

       “So I take it this would be fitting for us?,” Trevelyan then asked, taking in his hands the one titled ‘Noblemen’. Cullen covered his face with his hands as he went deep red and silently swore for revenge. “Does it have drawings?”

       He was about to lose it, so the Commander left Dorian’s books on the stand and saw himself out of the shop, breaking into laughter as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t be heard, Allen coming out a bit later with all the books.

       “I can’t believe you did that. That was so embarrassing!”

       “I know! Here, you earned it,” Trevelyan chuckled as he gave Cullen the guide. “For a moment there I thought you were going to burst like a volcano.”

       “I hate you,” Cullen snorted, and then kissed him roughly. “You will pay for this, Inquisitor.”

 

       “Inquisitor, my dear, I was concerned you’d be late!,” Vivienne greeted them at the entrance of Wiscotte’s estate.

       “Fashionably late,” Allen grinned, causing the mage to chuckle and nod.

       “Commander Cullen, you look absolutely dashing, darling. If only we got to see you finely dressed like this and not with that dreadful armour...”

       He didn’t reply. If it was Vivienne’s decision, the Inquisition soldiers would dress with raffles, use masks instead of helmets, and fight with dueling sabres instead of swords. Luckily for him, the Inquisitor didn’t let for much conversation to occur and urged them to follow inside the mansion, already filled with people who chatted and drank while a band played a beautiful melody in the background. After having seen Bourdillion’s estate he wasn’t much impressed by this one, since they both were quite similar, but Cullen still admired the luxury present even in the marble floor.

       “I don’t see the Minister yet, but let us not approach her right away,” Vivienne suggested. “Let’s mingle, pick up her curiosity.”

       As they crossed past the entrance, they got introduced, which caused some people to whisper among them as they stared, something Cullen could notice even if their eyes were hidden behind their masks. Allen had said the Marquis was fond of the Inquisition, so he was hoping the other attendees were as well.

       “Madame de Fer!,” a man walked towards them, followed by two young ladies. “It’s good to see you again, and I see you come well escorted.”

       “Comte Lévèque, it has been ages since we spoke,” she smiled. “How is the Comtesse, my dear?”

       “The University keeps her busy and me relieved,” he joked, then turning to Allen. “If I’m not wrong, this young man would be the Inquisitor. It is a great honour, your Worship.”

       “Pleased to meet you, your Lordship,” Trevelyan elegantly bowed.

       “And this fine man would be Commander Cullen,” Cullen bowed his head with respect, and the Comte then introduced the ladies. “These are my beloved daughters Marie and Claudette. None of them yet engaged, my Lords.”

       “Father!,” Marie giggled.

       “Enchantée,” Claudette chuckled as she did a reverence.

       “It is lovely to meet you,” Trevelyan smiled. “We’d ask you for a dance, miladies, but there doesn’t seem to be a mood.”

       Indeed, people were just talking while drinking or grabbing some food from the tables, but it was far from the party Cullen had expected. Not that he minded, anyways. They were only there to speak with the Minister, after all, and if it was for him they would just do that. But Vivienne seemed to enjoy making things hard.

       “To put it lightly!,” Marie muttered. “The Marquis throws such dull parties...”

       “Marie! Do not be rude!,” her father scolded her.

       “Darling, let her speak. Someone needs to show the Marquis how to do it properly,” de Fer defended her, causing the young lady to smile proudly.

       “He throws them too often,” Claudette chirped. “Quality over quantity.”

       “Excellent point, my dear.”

       “We shall leave you to talk to the other guests,” the Comte bowed, and the Lévèques left for the food table.

       “Inquisitor!,” they heard another man call for them as soon as they were seen free. “I'm Marquis Wiscotte. I’m thrilled you could attend. Might I take you away from the party for a moment? I would like to discuss the arrangement your Ambassador talked about.”

       “Of course,” he said, frowning at Cullen, who could read “save me” on his lips as he left.

       The Commander sighed.

       “Relax, darling. He can handle himself. Now let us move before we get trapped in more petty conversations,” Vivienne smiled, taking him by the arm.

       “Petty? I thought Comte Lévèque and you were good acquaintances.”

       “The Comte is too weak for the Game. Look at him, he is like a lost puppy begging for the attention of the ladies.”

       “Does the Comtesse know that?”, he asked as he noticed the man talking to a group of women half his age, all in front of his daughters.

       “She is too busy bedding her sponsored student to even give it a thought. And why should she anyway?”

       “They are cheating on each other, and they aren’t even being discreet about it,” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

       “My dear, marriage and love hardly ever go hand in hand,” he was aware, particularly among nobility. But still, it felt repulsive and disrespectful. “The Comte ascended in position through this wedding, and the Comtesse got two heirs. That is where it ends, their private lives are theirs to live. Together or separately.”

       “That feels sad,” Cullen replied with simplicity, seeing how the mage’s expression hardened.

       “You do realize outside of the Inquisition Trevelyan is a noble from an important house in Ostwick, right?”

       “He is not like this.”

       “My dear, don’t be a fool,” she said bluntly, making Cullen tense up and frown. “Allen’s eldest brother is a self-absorbed Seeker of Truth, from what I've head, and his younger brother was lost to the Mage Rebellion, which positions him as the most valuable asset his family has.”

       The fact that she would refer to him in such way made the Commander’s stomach twist. How dared she call Trevelyan a friend? Or anyone?

       “Make your point,” he muttered.

       “He might be required to marry to secure his family’s status, and you have to acknowledge where that leaves you. You _must_.”

       “If you are trying to scare me...”

       “I’m only pointing out the obvious, for you sake. If you cannot accept this, maybe you should have set your eyes somewhere else.”

       With those words, she left, but she didn’t take with her the unsettling feeling she had placed inside the Commander. What if she was right? Would Allen cast him aside to marry in order to assure his surname’s descension? All of a sudden, Cullen wanted to leave that place. Leave and just go far, or even fade, and this time not even when the Inquisitor reappeared and walked to him with a wide smile did he feel better.

       “That man talks far too much and far too quickly,” he grinned at him, then softly touched his hand. “What’s wrong, little lion?”

 _Little lion_ , not even after all that could Cullen avoid smiling.

       “I just feel a bit… uncomfortable here,” he admitted, unable to conceal a bittersweet tone. Allen gently stroked his thumb and nodded.

       “I get it. Most parties I enjoyed were the ones I attended as a bard. Otherwise it gets pretty tiring. I’m glad I managed to push myself aside from that when I was younger. If not, I could be one of these _unfortunate_ guys.”

       “Push yourself aside?,” he asked, with a weird sense of hopefulness that he could claim the mage was wrong when she said Allen wasn’t different.

       “Inquisitor Trevelyan!”

       “For fucks sake…,” he muttered. “We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

       “Agreed,” Cullen grinned, feeling slightly better and holding tightly to that hope.

       “Comte Boisvert, I’m glad to see you out of the closet, untied and ungagged.”

       Thankfully, the nobleman bursted into laughter, because the Commander wouldn’t have been able to hold his back at such a sudden comment.

       “So he was speaking the truth?,” a noblewoman asked.

       “They wouldn’t take my word, but hopefully they take yours, your Worship,” the Comte smiled. “Please, tell them what happened. Tell them how we met.”

       Allen turned to Cullen with a wide smile.

       “Actually, I’m not sure if you heard this one, Commander.”

       “I only overheard it.”

       Trevelyan then proceeded to tell the story, explaining how the Comte had been captured by an assassin and placed inside a closet. He saw what he meant when he said he prefered to attend these parties as a bard: he had a talent for telling stories, something Cullen had learnt when he had travelled with him for the first time, and it was clear as day he was enjoying the silence and interest that grew in the group of nobles that listened to every one of his words.

       “So… as soon as we get rid of the assassin we hear this desperate, muffled grunting. Lucky us, our Ambassador can speak grunt,” he joked, making his crowd giggle. “And believe me, you are standing before the man with the most expressive grunts I’ve ever heard. Anyways, we rush to his aid, concerned about how many days he might have spent trapped inside that wooden box, hungry, hurt and afraid, Lady Montilyet and I reassuring him it will all be over as soon as we find anything to break the closet open. And at those words, we hear the loudest, most terrified growl in Thedas.”

       Boisvert bursted into laughing, and so did the rest.

       “He was willing to wait for five more hours just to make sure we got a locksmith and the closet suffered no damages.”

       “You are incorregible,” a noblewoman told the Comte in giggles.

       Cullen was still smiling when he noticed someone approach. Someone he thought could be the Minister, so he gently touched Allen’s arm to bring this to his attention.

       “Not only did you save my life, your Worship,” Boisvert said, “you are also very amusing.”

       “You ought to come to more of these parties, Inquisitor!”

       “I’m glad you enjoyed the tale,” he politely smiled. “If you’ll excuse me.”

       The Commander watched his lover exchange a few words with the Minister and then they both left to speak somewhere more private. He hated to see him go once more, but at least they would be able to get the mission at hand done, save Josephine and leave that place once and for all. He noticed Vivienne coming back towards him and tried not to flinch.

       “Did I just see the Inquisitor and the Minister leave?”

       “Yes.”

       “Good. He caused a good impression and does have a way with words. He won’t have trouble convincing Bellise. I suppose you will be leaving afterwards?”

       “Yes.”

       “Wiscotte has become aware of the interest the Inquisitor has risen and will try to keep him around. But do not fear, I’ll handle him.”

       “You will?,” Cullen inquired with visible doubt.

       “I will meet with you too at the docks at dawn. And do enjoy the night, my dear. It’s magical in Val Royeaux during spring.”

       He sighed loudly when the mage left him again. She was blowing hot and cold at the same time and for a moment he thought she was mocking him, but the truth was she was actually trying to make him understand that it was fine for him to be with the Inquisitor, as long as he had present that he would become the lover should Trevelyan be required to marry for whichever nobility reasons. But that remained to be seen, so as soon as he saw Allen return from his meeting, he grabbed his hand and pulled him to a hall out of people’s sight.

       “Come, Vivienne’s distracting the Marquis,” he explained, but before he got personal he made sure to ask about the matter at hand. “How did it go?”

       “Josephine is free to return to her office,” he smiled. “Bellise agreed to raise the Du Paraquettes to a minor lordship.”

       “What did she ask of you in exchange?”

       “Not me, but Josephine’s connections in Antiva. She wants to spend the winter at the coast, and it seems a privileged spot is enough to comptent her.”

       “That’s a relief. We should inform Leliana’s agent so she can send a raven to Skyhold.”

       “Yeah, I’m glad that’s over with. And now, I’m all yours,” he widely smiled as he drew circles with his finger on Cullen’s chest.

       “Before we leave, you mentioned earlier that you pushed _this_ life aside. What did you mean?”

       Allen blinked, surprised and also suspicious, but still answered the question.

       “Well to… put it shortly I’m quite good at turning down the plans my mother makes for me. No Chantry, no Templars, no ambassadorships, no prepared marriages, no b-”

       He got interrupted by a hot and fierceful kiss from the Commander that pushed him against the wall. Allen needed a couple of seconds to react before returning his love with just as much passion, running his hands up Cullen’s back and tangling his fingers with his hair. Cullen heard a quiet gasp nearby, but ignored the onlookers. This was his moment, and he wanted to celebrate that he was right.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some smut

        “Did you see her face?,” Allen laughed as he struggled to catch air after such a race, both Cullen and him now away from the party.

        “Maker’s breath,” the Fereldan panted. With his daring now gone, the embarrassment began to heat up his cheeks. “That wasn’t a good idea, was it?”

        “What? Shocking some nobles? Quite a good idea, specially if your lips make love to mine the way they did back there.”

        Cullen chuckled as the man cuddled in his arms, “would you like to repeat?”

        “That’s the man I like,” Allen slowly reached for his mouth, but just as they were about to kiss he pulled back, took Cullen’s hand and dragged him again through the streets of Val Royeaux with a charming laugh not even children could compete with.

 

        He stopped at a store to buy a basket with fruit and a big blanket and then guided Cullen out of the city, to a small lake on a hill that was silent and peaceful, opposite to the hustle of the city, a change of environment the Commander greatly appreciated. He closed his eyes for a moment to feel the sun warm up his face until it almost stung and then took a deep breath of the spring air, delighting in the smell of the green grass and the beautiful flowers all around. It felt like a little paradise.

        “Do you like it?,” Allen smiled. “I heard about this place the first time I came to Val Royeaux and looked for it in the maps. It’s even more beautiful than I had anticipated.”

        “It’s wonderful.”

        The Inquisitor nodded, satisfied, and set the basket and the blanket on the floor before stripping out of his clothes, prompting an impossible to hide blush that extended through all of Cullen’s body.

        “I thought you wanted out of that outfit,” Trevelyan smirked. “Will you just stand there and stare or are you coming with me?”

        He began walking towards the lake and Cullen didn’t wait. He got rid of the Orlesian clothing with eagerness, but still carefully putting it down in a way it wouldn’t get dirty, and then followed his lover, who had already reached the shore. He had to stop to cherish that view. His body looked stunning under the sun, bright on his tan skin, his silky hair dancing with the breeze as the muscles in his back tensed and contracted as he moved his hand to play with the water below him. The sound of his laughter played on Cullen’s mind, who now saw Allen as a cheerful and chirpy hummingbird. A warm feeling extended through his whole body as a wide smile drew in his lips, calmest as he had never been as he realized the man in front of him was the most beautiful man in Thedas.

        “Are you okay, love?,” Allen asked from afar.

        “Better than ever,” Cullen whispered as he bit his lower lip and ran for his man, jumping on him and making both of them fall into the fresh water, the two lovers then emerging in happy laughter.

        “You really like getting me all wet!,” Trevelyan complained as he splashed the Commander.

        “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist you,” he admitted with a grin, but Allen didn’t take the apology and charged at him, trying to throw him back in the water. However, Cullen was stronger, so the rogue ended face first on the water. Still, he tried again, and again two more times. “Are you done?”

        He smiled with pride as he watched the Inquisitor get back on his feet and pant, exhausted. He looked quite sexy like that, it reminded him of that moment after they had made love back in his tower.

        “No. I’ll have you under water, Commander,” he gave him a cocky smile. Cullen chuckled and opened his arms, inviting him to give it another try.

        He jumped again, but this time Cullen did not push him aside, but embraced his body with his arms and let himself fall, both men going into the lake tangled together. And as they sank, the Fereldan’s lips went to meet the Inquisitor’s, merging in a kiss as his fingers felt the special softness his brown hair had under the water. When they came out, still hugged, Allen had a deep blush in his face and his mouth was slightly parted, letting out deep breaths. Cullen wanted to drink the water that ran down his lips and his whole body. Tenderly, he brushed back wet hair that was stuck on Allen’s forehead.

        “Are you trying to drive me mad today?,” he asked with a low voice.

        “That’s something you already did with me.”

        Cullen got lost in his eyes, shimmering with the sun like the purest green jewels. He had seen many things in them: bliss when they shared a laugh that morning, fear up in the battlements, sadness and tenderness when Cullen had told him about the lyrium, lust and passion when he was kneeling in front of the naked Commander. But he saw something different and new this time, and he wasn’t sure if the change was in Allen, in him, or both of them.

        “You are shaking,” Trevelyan spoke, softly. “Should we get out of the water?”

        Cullen hugged him tightly and kissed his head.

        “No, I’m just… really happy to be here.”

        He giggled as he felt Allen rub his scruff against his chest, purring. The Commander gently made him look up to claim his mouth before stepping back and running away, throwing water all around.

        “Besides, you are tagged!”

        Cullen was stronger indeed, but Allen was faster, and soon he had the man right behind him. He tried to swim, but the rogue leaped and fell on him, wrapping his arms around the Commander’s waist.

        “Come back here, you!,” he giggled, returning to his arms. Cullen cradled him tenderly and smiled.

        “Fine, but only because you have a beautiful smile,” he found himself saying, causing Allen to laugh cheerfully.

        “Oh, Cullen, you really know how to make a man blush.”

        “Only you,” he coyly smiled as he ran a finger down Trevelyan’s chest, then looked for his hand and tangled their fingers together. “Come, let’s eat something.”

        They walked out of the lake and laid down on the blanket very close together, skin against skin as the sun warmed up their backs. Cullen ran a hand along the Inquisitor’s, pushing away water drops that fell down his sides. He did not stop when Allen’s back ended and caressed his soft buttocks, giving them a spank afterwards that made them jiggle and sound quite loud due to the water.

        “I owed you that one.”

        “You are quite naughty today, Commander,” he grinned.

        “Too… much?”

        “Not enough,” Allen chuckled. “I need you to push me against a wall and kiss me more often, to caress me frequently and to spank me a lot harder.”

        “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cullen giggled, then went back to tickling the Inquisitor’s back as he distractedly stared at his scars.

        “On the other hand,” Trevelyan said with a slightly worried tone, “you look troubled by something today.”

        He sat now and the Fereldan looked up at him. He knew that conversation was coming, and he had already planned on bringing it up himself, but sometimes it was hard for him to put things down in words. Still, he sat up too and looked away.

        “There is something, indeed…,” he muttered. “It started since we got to Val Royeaux.”

        “Back at the Winter Estate you seemed a bit overwhelmed.”

        Allen was no fool and Cullen had expected him noticing where the core of the issue would be, and he was spot on.

        “Yeah, I was… I mean, seeing myself in that outfit was… strange. It felt as if I was pretending to be something I’m not, or rather made me look as something else. As in, it made it clear we are on different levels or… I’m sorry, I’m making no sense now...”

        “You are,” Allen tenderly smiled, and then stroke Cullen’s skin with a finger. “When I told you I prefer you naked like this I didn’t just mean it because you are stunningly beautiful. When we are undressed we tend to be more vulnerable, but also more real, more like ourselves. And this is the Cullen I like.”

        His touch and his words did make the Commander feel better, but were not enough to convince him fully. But the fact that Allen was listening to him led him to keep on explaining deeper.

        “Still, outside of the Inquisition I am nothing,” he said.

        “Cullen, that’s not-”

        “Wait, let me finish,” he gently asked as he started to feel nervous and noticed he was slightly shaking again. “I have no titles, or lands, or anything to really offer to you,” he looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m not a rich Orlesian prince with a Winter Estate, I’m the Fereldan farmer in the muddy hut.”

        He hadn’t been sure of how it was going to come out, or how he would feel after it, and he wasn’t expecting it to be somewhat bittersweet. Having put that in words did feel like taking a weight off, but on the other hand it made it so real he was actually frightened he would be put aside or rejected by Trevelyan. This pushed all the stress he had tried to keep buried inside right up to his eyes, making him look to a side in an attempt to contain it. But Allen wasn’t going to let him be evasive and gently tilted his head back so their eyes met.

        “I’d pick the muddy hut over the Winter Estate every time if you were inside,” he spoke with a sincere smile that sent chills through all of his body. “I love you, Cullen.”

        He blinked, stunned, a warm tear running down his cheek.

        “Don’t cry,” Trevelyan smiled, starting to seem emotional as well as he gently took it off with his thumb, Cullen stroking his cheek against his hand. It was easy to say that for him, he thought, but the Commander was really trying to keep his emotions in control. And it was crazy now, for his tears had been forming up because of fear, but they had come out as the happiest smile drew on his lips. Saying out loud he was scared had made that fear thick and real, but listening to the Inquisitor speak the three words had brushed away everything else. The laughing, the kissing, the deep talks, the sex… none of it had been casual, and he knew that. He knew they were falling in love, but no one ever tells you where the end of that is, when you have reached the bottom and you are actually in love. And he had realized they both were when they looked into each other’s eyes in that lake.

        “I’m sorry,” he said, speechless. “I had... no idea love could turn one’s darkest fears into bliss in less than seconds. I have never felt anything like this before.”

        Allen chuckled and rested his forehead against Cullen’s.

        “And I didn’t know there existed a man who could make me believe in love again,” Trevelyan confessed, surprising Rutherford. “I had no idea a kiss could stop time and make me forget about anything else, or that your touch would spark a thrill in me that I thought was long dead.”

        Cullen realized Allen had been badly hurt in the past, and he suddenly understood why he had been so afraid in the battlements when they first kissed, and why he had felt so bad about his affair with Bull. He had been trying to feel love again and couldn’t do so, and that had probably led him to think he was doomed to never find it again.

        Trevelyan pulled out the white ring he wore on his pinky, an item Cullen had never seen him without.

        “After my last relationship broke, I kept this as a remainder of what love implied. I swore to myself I would give this to the first person who made me feel life was worth living, along with all of my being,” he smiled, but Cullen could feel pain behind it. “But I gave up, and I stopped looking for love. And when I tried to replace the emptiness in me with casual encounters and useless seductions I fell deeper into hopelessness,” Allen made a pause before he continued, taking a breath as he cast aside those dark thoughts. “But then, you opened yourself to me, and the more time we spent together, the more I believed. Then, you kissed me, and you asked me to stay with you that night, and waking up in your arms on the next day was like being born again.”

        Gently, Allen took Cullen’s pinky and pushed the ring.

        “You make me feel alive,” his smile was bright again. “And after the Inquisition is over, I’d love to remain by your side, if you will.”

        “I… this is…,” the Commander was struggling to find the words, so he replaced them with a sweet kiss on Trevelyan’s lips to which the Inquisitor reacted by leaning in, letting him say all the things he couldn’t put into words with his mouth, and a bit later his tongue, that searched for Trevelyan’s in a desperate attempt to communicate. When they pulled away from each other, Allen licked his wet lips and grinned.

        “I really like this language you speak, Commander.”

        “I’m not certain I made myself clear,” he smirked, and proceeded to smooch his lover repeatedly until Allen was lying on his back and Cullen was on him. At some point, he stopped the kissing and stared into Trevelyan’s eyes. He might not be able to put everything in words, but he knew a way to summarize his feelings and thoughts. “I love you, Allen. And I’m not letting you go anywhere after our mission is done.”

        The Inquisitor smiled and caressed their lips together.

        “I have something for you, too,” Cullen then said, reaching for his pouch. “It’s funny, this lake reminds me a lot to the one that was near my house when I was a child. The last time I was there was when I left for templar training. My brother gave me this.”

        He took out a small silver coin and showed it to Allen.

        “It happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck.”

        “That’s very sweet,” he smiled, prompting Cullen to do the same and nod.

        “Yes, although Templars are not supposed to carry such things. It is faith that should see us through.”

        “Yet you kept it, even broke the Order’s rules to do so. I’m shocked.”

        “I was quite good at following the rules, most of the time,” he giggled. “But yes, I did. I went through the falling of the Circle, Kirkwall, Haven… I survived them, and now I’m here, with you,” Cullen grinned and placed it into Trevelyan’s hand. “We don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This can’t hurt.”

        Allen accepted it with a warm smile and put it safe in a pocket of his doublet.

        “Thank you, a token like this means a lot to me.”

        Cullen laid on top of him and cuddled in his arms, closing his eyes at the soothing touch of Allen as his hands traveled up and down along his back.

        “It’s… curious,” the former Templar said. “Neither of us was looking for love, yet we both found it in each other.”

        “Maybe the Maker  _ does _ have a plan for all of us. The timing of it was… curious,” he laughed out loud, Cullen staring at him surprised but delighted, and then Allen explained. “The last time I arrived to Skyhold my faith in the Maker had been shaken. A little after you invited me to your tower.”

        “Then it might be. I certainly like these plans of his.”

        Both of them chuckled, and Cullen reached for a strawberry, using it to caress Allen’s lips. He gently bit a chunk off, and the Commander had the rest.

        “If I had known the plans he had for me included a beautiful man resting on me as he fed me strawberries I would have prayed much harder,” the Inquisitor joked, causing Cullen to snort.

        “Well, we have cherries too,” he grabbed one and placed it above Allen’s mouth, who gave it a bite, the water from the fruit spilling down the corner of his mouth. But Cullen was there to save the day, so he gave a slow and smooth lick to the delicious liquid, guiding his tongue then between Trevelyan’s lips and pushing in for a kiss as he tasted the fruit in his lover’s mouth. The Inquisitor lowly moaned and Cullen smiled with pride, smirking at the look Allen had on his face when they pulled apart.

        “What a playful tongue you have there,” he spoke as he caressed Cullen’s lips with a finger, the man sticking it out to lick it. “There it is.”

        The Commander wrapped his lips around it and Trevelyan began playing with his tongue, pushing his finger deeper as Cullen began sucking on it. 

        “This is the fifth erection you’ve provoked today,” he admitted, blushing as he fingered his mouth. But the Commander was already aware of the hardness pressed between their bodies, and he had been looking for that. “Uhm, would you like a cherry or a strawberry?”

        Cullen let his finger slide out of his mouth and shook his head with a wicked grin.

        “I’m hungry of you,” he whispered, then placed kisses on his mouth, then neck and chest, slowly but without stopping, crawling down his body past his abs until he met Trevelyan’s sex once again, proudly standing and begging for attention. He wrapped one hand around the shaft and used the other to cup the sack, big and round under his fingers.

        “Those aren’t cherries,” Allen joked, making Cullen snort, then plant a kiss on each one before running his tongue around them. He had never done anything like this, and he found it to be quite erotic and pleasing, especially when the other man moaned. “You seem to be enjoying them.”

        He was. In fact, he enjoyed playing with his sack when he pleased himself, and he had found the line where the skin joined to be quite sensitive, so he ran his tongue all the way up to his root, making Trevelyan shiver under him as a loud groan left his mouth. Cullen could have stayed there licking and sucking all day, but he had felt Allen grow harder in his hand, and the glimmering glans sneaked out from his foreskin invitingly. He remembered how amazing the Inquisitor’s mouth felt around him, and he wanted to return that favour, so he opened his and took him in a bit roughly, provoking the man to moan and sit up, burying his fingers in Cullen’s hair as he tasted him. He found it to be a bit odd, but not unpleasant, and honestly seeing the expression that drew on the Inquisitor’s face would have made anything bearable. He sneaked his hands under the Inquisitor’s butt to clutch his cheeks and bring him closer to his face, slowly taking more than half of Allen in his mouth. He didn’t dare go further yet, since Trevelyan’s sex was already making him feel full, so he let his tongue toy around the hot shaft as he began sucking on it, provoking soft curses and grunts from the other man, who called his name as if he was naming a god, which brought a lovely pleasure to the Commander. The Inquisitor was entirely at his disposal, panting and moaning with a deep blush across his cheeks as desire and passion sparkled in his half closed eyes. And Cullen knew it wasn’t just his hands and tongue that were driving the man mad. He could see in his stare that Allen wanted him, but also  _ loved _ him, and that lit up something inside Cullen he had never felt before. Something that invited him to be bolder, secure and hopeful, not just in sex, but in life. Trevelyan wanted a future with him, and the Commander wanted the same thing. And now, he wasn’t just surviving the every day. Now he wanted to live, to travel to more places with Allen. To get that hut, if possible near a lake like this one. And he was transmitting all of that to his lover with a constant movement of head and tongue, accompanied by a hand he tried to use in synchrony with the rest.

        “Cullen,” Trevelyan called a second time, shuddering and whimpering. “Cullen, I’m getting close.”

        The Commander snapped out of his thoughts and quickly pulled back, but not in time to prevent the Inquisitor’s orgasm, that hit him on his right cheek and on his chest.

        “I’m sorry,” Allen apologized as he searched for a napkin, all while Cullen chuckled.

        “Nice shot,” he joked, allowing the Inquisitor to clean him. “It was my fault. I didn’t want to have you finish this soon, but I got carried away.”

        Trevelyan leant in and gave him a soft kiss as he pushed him back to have him lay on the blanket. He always ended up on top.

        “You couldn’t wait until we arrived to the estate, could you?,” his lover chuckled.

        “I had already waited enough,” Cullen replied, then caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

        Allen’s expression softened as he closed his eyes and tilted his head over the Commander’s hand. Then, he rested his head over the former Templar’s chest and embraced him, Cullen then wrapping his arms around his back in a protective hug.

        “Thank you,” the Inquisitor spoke, in such a soft tone the Commander understood he didn’t mean the pleasure.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: much smut

        If it had been for him, they would have stayed at the lake at night, but they had to check back at the estate or Leliana’s agent would search for them herself, so to spare her the trouble and for the sake of a proper bed in a week they both returned as the sun was coming down. 

        Night had almost covered the sky when they arrived to the mansion, shimmering and splendid under the gentle light of the moon and the stars. A soothing breeze covered Cullen with a sweet smell from the flowers that bloomed when the sun hid. It was fantastic, how the very same place could look and feel so different at day and night.

        Allen walked by his side, holding his hand as they crossed the courtyard and not letting go when the Inquisition’s agent showed herself, only to bow and say goodnight, or when Garlen greeted them inside. As he and Allen talked, Cullen took another chance to look around at the greatness of the vestibule, particularly the ceiling and the massive chandelier that hanged in the center. Trevelyan assured Garlen he needn’t worry about their dinner, and the steward informed him that, should they require anything, he and the servants would be in their quarters on the back end of the manor. Then, the Inquisitor and the Commander were left alone in the huge entrance.

        “You seem quite caught by this place,” Trevelyan spoke when he noticed he had lost his sight to the details all around.

        “It’s so spacious and wide,” he lowly answered.

        “Come,” Allen pulled his hand going in the direction of the door to the left.

        “Our quarters are through the upper door,” Cullen reminded him, a bit confused.

        “Yes, but there’s a library this way. Let’s explore!”

        He couldn’t say no to his devilish smile, so he chuckled and followed him through the door into a huge corridor with a massive staircase. Nothing in that place was tight. He noticed those stairs connected to the left wing’s main hall, which had another set of steps that led to the bedrooms. But Allen ignored the stairs and both of them walked along the room until they found a huge door, just like the one at the entrance, but blue instead of red. A plaque next to it read “library”, and they both went inside. As expected, the room was massively tall, filled with bookshelves and tables, and a staircase that led to a second floor with more books. And still there was enough space there to hold a war. “Maker’s breath,” he thought, “Orlesians waste so much space”.

        “Sweet Andraste, check all of these books… I doubt the Marquis has read them all,” Allen mumbled, amazed. “Do you think he’ll have a book like yours here?”

        Cullen blushed and scratched his neck.

        “Hey, it was  _ you _ who bought it.”

        Trevelyan giggled and walked a few paces into the room.

        “They could hold balls here. Not even sure why they have yet another room for that.”

        He then turned to the Commander, and he feared he would dare to ask. And as he had anticipated, the man bowed in front of him and offered him a hand.

        “May I have this dance, Your  _ Commandership _ ?”

        Cullen snorted, but still looked to a side, a bit ashamed.

        “You want to dance here? T-there’s not even music.”

        “I’ll make it for you,” he grinned, and then proceeded to hum  _ Empress of Fire _ , but in such a fast way it drew another laugh from the Commander. It convinced him to tell the man the truth.

        “I… don’t know how to dance.”

        For a bit longer, the Inquisitor held his hand up, but then he retired it.

        “Alright, I’ll do it differently then.”

        Once again, he bowed and offered his hand.

        “May I have this dance,  _ my love _ ?”

        He understood he was telling him he didn’t care, that despite that he wanted to dance with him and share that moment together. And he couldn’t say no to him, not when the moonlight through the windows shone on his smile in a divine way.

        “Just for you,” Cullen almost whispered, stepping further and taking his hand. Allen pulled him closer and softly placed the Commander’s free hand on his lower back.

        “Don’t look to your feet,” gently as he always was, he rose Cullen’s chin so their eyes met. “Keep your eyes locked to mine, and follow my lead.”

        He nodded, and Trevelyan began humming a beautiful and slow melody to which both began to dance to. He was agile like a bird, elegant, soft and rhythmic like a song, while Cullen was rigid and rougher. But Allen didn’t care, and he saw in his eyes that even if their dance was a bit awkward, it was perfect for him. And so it was for Cullen, who’s feeling of concern had been replaced with peace and bliss as they both moved around the room, almost as if time had slowed down for them to share this dance.

        Eventually, Allen pressed against Cullen’s chest, turning their dance into a calm sway. The Inquisitor kept humming and the Commander covered him with his arms and kissed his head, remaining there, resting his cheek against Trevelyan’s soft hair. When the melody ended, the rogue looked up at Cullen and he leant in for a soft kiss, their lips sensually stroking against each others as their tongues were the ones to perform a gentle dance now. The Commander felt weak. Just like the world was different in day and night, kissing Trevelyan felt different each time, and somehow every time it got better. He wanted to make some romance. Take him to his room, drink wine, share caresses and laughs, kisses, dive into each other. No one ever mentioned falling in love was so overwhelming, but then again, he felt comfortable with Allen as to be sure he was taking the right steps. He broke the kiss with a low gasp and embraced the man tightly, trying to make sure it showed just how much he cared about him.

        “The next time Cassandra asks me what I consider home,” his muffled voice spoke with a soft chuckle, “I’ll say your arms.”

        “Maker’s breath,” he lifted Trevelyan and kissed him as he pushed him, always gently, against a column. “I don’t even have words left for you.”

        “Well,” Allen smiled and stroked his hair, “some things are better said unspoken, and you are really good at that. No dance will ever best tonight’s.”

 

        Cullen closed the door with a kick and didn’t care about the strong noise it made. In fact, he did more when he let Allen bash him against it, his mouth running along his neck as his hands inexorably opened Cullen’s doublet, causing him to moan in anticipation. His lips kissed every inch of skin a new opened button revealed until he went past his navel. Having the Inquisitor’s face so close to his pelvis made him shiver and get a dry mouth. As soon as his top was split in two, Trevelyan pulled it out from Cullen’s arms and drove his hands all over his naked torso, clutching his pecs, feeling his abs, his shoulders, his arms. His touch lit him up like a candle, made him tremble inside and at the same time it soothed him from anything else, taking his preoccupations away. It was like a fantastic therapy expressed through their skins, and he would give into Allen’s anytime, so he grabbed his top and pulled it up, swiftly pressing against him, bare skins burning together as their lips connected. Cullen slapped Allen’s buttcheeks and the man jumped on him, wrapping his legs around the warrior’s waist. He looked around for the right place to take Allen to. There was the obvious bed, a desk and some chairs.

        “Hey, you have a balcony?,” he noticed.

        “With a couch,” the rogue licked his ear, making the man growl as he made his way outside, carefully setting him down on the comfy sofa.

        “Wait here,” Cullen playfully whispered into his ear, Allen sitting comfortably with a teasing smile as the shirtless man when back inside. Not much later, he returned with a bottle of wine and two goblets. He sat next to the Inquisitor, very close to him, and handed him one of the golden drinking glasses. He filled both, placed the bottle on a side table and cuddled Allen with his left arm. “A toast. To a job well done. To the Herald of Andraste. To the Inquisition.”

        “To us,” Trevelyan grinned, their goblets clashing before they took a sip. After that, Cullen’s lips went for his once again, wanting to taste the wine from them.

        “Can I ask you something?”

        “Is it a naughty question?”

        “No,” Cullen giggled. “Those will come later. I was curious as to how you got this.”

        His finger travelled down the big scar that went down from the Inquisitor’s left pec to the lower right side of his torso.

        “Clearly, fighting a dragon,” Allen smirked, shaking his head afterwards. “Nah, actually it’s not that good of a tale. I had this lover, years ago, who loved drinking too much and talked too much. He pissed off some asshat who pulled a blade. He was in no condition to defend himself, so I did, or tried to.”

        “He gave you that?”

        “Yeah. I was able to save my man’s life, but I took the slash. I did knock the guy unconscious and punched three teeth out of his mouth, so we are even. Almost lost a nipple.”

        “I’m glad you didn’t,” he smiled, playfully pinching his nipple. “What of this one?”

        He now caressed one that went down his right eyebrow and cheek. Allen lowly laughed, slightly ashamed.

        “Well, I had this lover who loved drinking too much and talked too much. He pissed off this other fellow, who broke a bottle.”

        “That guy was a moron,” words practically came out of the ex-Templar’s mouth on their own, but Cullen didn’t regret them. Allen had gotten hurt because of someone who was supposed to love him twice, and that made him want to punch a man he did not even know.

        “He really was,” Trevelyan chuckled, nonetheless. “And look at what I got now, my own lion prince.”

        The Commander couldn't avoid the blush that covered his cheeks or the smile that cleaned the upsettingness from his face, but before he could speak Allen talked.

        “Any more questions?”

        “One more,” he replied, his thumb stroking the scar the Inquisitor had on the left side of his lower lip.

        “This one?,” he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I was playing with my dad and my sister. We were sliding in socks along a hallway in our estate. I slid too much and hit my face with a table.”

        “Ouch!”

        “Yeah,” he said, sitting on Cullen’s lap. “What about you? How did you get your lip scar?”

        “I’m not sure,” he carefully spoke as Trevelyan’s fingertip followed the trail of the Commander’s facial scar. “I know it was during the fight in Kirkwall, when the mages rebelled. There were abominations with claws, but the mages also fought with staves with blades. All I know is when it was over I was bleeding, and my face was like this.”

        “I like it. It’s hot.”

        Cullen snorted and ran his hands up and down the Inquisitor’s back, making him purr. Behind him, the moons shone bright. It was an image he was never going to forget. Allen noticed his lost gaze and turned his head around.

        “It’s beautiful,” he said.

        “You are,” the Commander took the chance that his neck was stretched to kiss it’s skin, drawing soft moans from Trevelyan.

        “Aside from them no one else can see us,” he said in gasps, Cullen kissing under his ear. “Should we make them blush?”

        He nibbled his ear lobe as a reply, making Allen groan and curse as his fingers dived in his golden curls. Cullen’s hands travelled down the Inquisitor’s back and rested on his sides, Trevelyan’s mouth locking on his as his tongue promised war. And so it was, since the Commander soon saw Allen’s intentions as he made his way down his chest leaving a trail of love bites behind until he reached his navel. Sneaky fingers gently pulled Cullen’s trousers and underwear, and he helped the man by rising his hips.

        “Sit back and relax,” Trevelyan smiled sweetly as he knelt between his bare legs, the Commander spreading them as he obeyed and got comfortable. Allen massaged his calves as he planted kisses up his inner thighs, the sensitive skin sending pulses to his already hard member. He felt like closing his eyes and giving in to the pleasure, but he did not want to miss a single detail. “You look so handsome when you look at me like that,” Trevelyan grinned before licking his sack. Cullen would have replied, but he was too busy blushing and moaning as his lover’s hot tongue went up his length. This position allowed him to fully see Allen’s face, his mesmerizing green eyes locked to his, and his mouth as he began to take him in. Cullen had to bite his lip to avoid screaming in pleasure. He toyed with Allen’s hair lovingly, unable to take his eyes off from his as he worked his sex with his lips and tongue. A hand wrapped around his pouch, fondling it, the Commander thinking maybe one of those fingers would press against his entrance, but that didn’t happen.

        “Have I already told you you have beautiful eyes?,” Cullen asked, causing Allen to blush and half-close his eyes, grateful for the compliment. His hands then went to clutch the ex-Templar’s buttcheeks, the man’s muscles tensing as the rogue’s fingers slightly went into his crack. But they didn’t go further, and he knew it was only hopeful thinking. Allen was too polite to go that far without him telling he wanted so. But Cullen didn’t know how, which made him a bit upset. He loved and trusted the man, but he didn’t have the guts to ask him for more. He felt a bit embarrassed about it, he had to admit. Perhaps even afraid, if not both. 

        “Something wrong?,” Allen spoke. “You seem distracted.”

        Cullen scratched the back of his neck a bit flustered.

        “Well, you do work wonders with your mouth,” he tried to wave away.

        “No, I mean physically. You keep tensing up, and you look slightly nervous,” he moved and sat again on his lap, tenderly brushing to a side a hair lock that had sticken to the Commander’s forehead. He sighed, but smiled. This man was too perceptive. “What is it? Is there something else you want to do?”

        “Maybe,” he admitted, trying to find courage in Allen’s questions.

        “Maybe something from that book you have?,” Trevelyan smiled, teasingly running a finger along his chest, causing Cullen to chuckle.

        “No, it’s not that. I was thinking… Would you like to… make... love... to me... tonight?,” he carefully said, feeling his heart rate start to go fast.

        “Isn’t that what we are doing?”

        Cullen wasn’t certain if Allen was still teasing or if he hadn’t actually made himself clear, and he almost replied “sure” and pretended it didn’t happen. But he dared clarify. It was his chance.

        “I mean if...  _ you  _ would like to take  _ me. _ ”

        He swallowed hard as he waited for a reply. Trevelyan’s face showed a bit of surprise, but it soon returned to his usual calm semblant.

        “Are you sure?,” he asked, and Cullen nodded. Allen then placed a hand on his chest. “You are very nervous.”

        “I am,” he admitted. “But I want to, and I trust you. I have to say I’ve been curious since...”

        A finger on his lip stopped him.

        “You don’t need to justify yourself,” the Inquisitor tenderly smiled, then grabbed his hand and helped him stand up. “Let’s go to the bed.”

        Cullen followed quietly, feeling his heart in his ears like a drum. He remembered Allen’s pleasure moans and groans when he was inside of him. It had made him wonder things, and he was about to get answers for a few questions.

        “Have you ever played with yourself?,” Trevelyan asked.

        “Not really. Just in the bath when I clean myself….”

        “Hmm, I do like a thorough man,” Allen sweetly chuckled. “Get on the bed.”

        Cullen got on his four as a deep blush colored his face, feeling fully exposed to the Inquisitor. Yet, at the same time, it was incredibly arousing. “Li… like this?”

        His heart was beating even faster than before. Unlike Allen, he was slightly hairy down there, and he knew he wasn’t as graceful or elegant as the rogue, and he truly hoped his lover wouldn’t mind that.

        “Arch your back a bit, relax,” the man gently placed a hand on his back and helped him get in the right position, his butt raised now and the breeze caressing his entrance. “What a sight! You have a beautiful hole.”

        “Maker’s breath…,” Cullen moaned out of nervousness. He put his head on the sheets and looked back. Between his legs he could see his erection quite hard, and behind the Inquisitor, who was pulling down his pants, revealing his own excitement. The view made him bite his lip. The man knelt on the bed behind him and he felt his hands grab his butt.

        “I’m going to prepare you, okay?. I promise I will be gentle.”

        He placed a few tender kisses all around his bottom, together with some caresesses that then spreaded his cheeks. The Commander exhaled as he got ready for a finger to make its way into him, but he gasped in surprise and pleasure when he felt a tongue run along his entrance.

        “What th-,” a louder moan interrupted his phrase as Allen’s tongue kept moving around it. He was shocked. Was that something people did? Why did it feel so good? The Inquisitor was making out with his bottom, and he loved it. His scruff tickled against the sensitive skin of his buttcheeks and his tongue drew circles around his hole, pressing, wanting to go in. And when it did, it sparked sensations the man had never felt before, and Cullen inevitably melted on the bed in moans, groans and calls to the Maker and Andraste as he unconsciously pressed himself against the Inquisitor’s face. He felt Allen chuckle at his reaction and he blushed, ashamed of his lack of control over his body. But he couldn’t help it. Once more, Trevelyan proved how good his tongue was, and the way it was moving now was driving the man crazy. 

        “I see you are enjoying yourself,” Allen’s smile appeared between his legs.

        “Why did you stop?,” he complained, the breeze making itself present around his wet entrance.

        “I can go on, but I thought it would be time to move on to something bigger,” he replied, a finger stroking his pucker.

        “R..right…, yes, of course.”

        The Inquisitor drew more circles around his hole, increasing the pressure until his finger began to slide inside, making him growl lowly.

        “Are you alright so far?,” Allen asked.

        “Yes,” he smiled, grateful at the attentiveness of the rogue. “Keep going.”

        He had never fingered himself like you would finger a woman, but he had ventured even two digits into himself when in the bath, that morning, as a matter of fact, so the sensation wasn’t as foreign as what Allen had done to him prior to that. But it still felt better having Trevelyan’s long and soft finger stroke his inner walls than his own.

        “Hold on, I’ll go get the oil to ease it up,” he felt the man leave the bed and he patiently waited until he returned, his weight on the bed starting to seem familiar. “It might feel a bit cold.”

        Slick fingers slided in him as the Inquisitor’s free hand wrapped around his length and began to stroke, sending waves of pleasure all through Cullen’s body, who’s voice trembled as he panted helplessly. Allen’s massage slowly became an in-and-out motion accompanied by soft kisses on his lower back, gentle and soothing, casting out the ex-Templar’s worryness and giving way to a much more relaxed estate in which he began to be eager for more.

        “Allen,” his voice softly called.

        “Are you sure? There is no rush, love.”

        “I… I am.”

        “Alright,” his wonderful touch leaving Cullen’s most sensitive spots made his body protest, but he got prepared for what was to come. He peeked from below himself as the Inquisitor oiled up his shaft with curiosity, noticing how he was using much more than last time. Afterwards, he felt the liquid spill over his entrance, making him shiver as it began to go down. However, Trevelyan took the care to keep it clean and pushed the drop up with a finger, his touch making Cullen’s erection pulse. Then, he felt Allen’s stroking against his hole. “We’ll do it at your pace. It’s going to feel uncomfortable at first, so take it slow. And relax.”

        Cullen nodded and took a deep breath. He was still slightly nervous, but he also felt more confident. And hot. So much he dared to playfully move his bottom to rub against his lover’s sex. It made him feel really naughty, and Allen’s chuckle and soft spank on his buttcheck made him oddly happy. With this man, he felt he could do all the “silly” stuff that came into his mind. It was comforting, and in bed, relieving and inciting. Daring. With a hand, Allen steadied Cullen’s bottom, and with the other he guided his shaft, a couple of pokes warning the Commander before his glans began to press against his entrance, slowly pushing it’s way inside and stretching his hole, Cullen grunting as he understood what the man meant when he said it would feel uncomfortable. Allen stopped as soon as the head was in, giving him time to adapt to the new sensation.

        “Are you alright?,” he asked, tenderly caressing his back as the Commander panted. “Does it hurt?”

        “N...no,” Cullen said, smiling back at him.

        “It will feel much better now, I promise. Push back at your own will, let your body get used to it.”

        As he spoke, his hands travelled along his back and his sides, caressing down his stomach and settling to massage his sack. The Inquisitor knew his weakest spots, and he was decided to make sure he was calm and his muscles relaxed, and he was achieving it. He had thought the experience would be really painful, but instead he had found that discomfort and now it was slowly fading, his lover’s touch distracting him from it and the oil making it easier for him to start to push back and take Trevelyan in. The sensation was indescribable, and matched in no way what his fantasy of having the Inquisitor take his hole was. The way he was rubbing his insides, his fingers around his pouch, tight due to his hardness, his soft moans and his scent, the particular intimacy of the moment. It all made him push back inch to inch, as fast as his body was allowing him to as he felt he was giving all of himself to the man he loved, because he had fallen for him in a way he never dreamt possible. And Allen made him feel good. After so many years of trials and challenges Cullen wanted more than just surviving, so much more. And he owed much of that to him.

        “Cullen,” Trevelyan called for him with a voice full of pleasure between groans, but he was so focused on his own movement that he didn’t answer. It took him some time and a few pauses when it felt too much, but finally his buttcheeks met Allen’s hips.

        “Maker’s breath,” the Commander rested his chest on the bed as he took some time to catch his own. Allen felt huge inside of him, and he felt full, oddly full, and proud. He had done it.

        “Sweet Andraste,” Trevelyan moaned. “You are a sexy beast, Cullen.”

        He chuckled and smiled at him.

        “You were right, it does feel better now,” he panted.

        “That’s comforting to hear,” the man leant forward a bit and began to massage the warrior’s shoulders, all while he felt his heart beat in his bottom.

        “Allen, you will be the end of me,” Rutherford purred.

        “And we haven’t even began,” he softly laughed, and then slowly pulled half of his shaft back, and then in again, drawing moans and curses from Cullen. And it repeated itself, after the third time the Commander finding himself moving his body at the Inquisitor’s rhythm: slow but passionate and delightful. As the thrusting pace was set, Allen rested on Cullen’s back, kissing his neck and his ear as the hand he wasn’t using as support looked to stimulate his throbbing length. He got completely lost on the different kinds of pleasure that made his mind numb. The voice of the Inquisitor whispering and growling in his ear soon made him want for more, and he asked him to stop.

        “Allen, wait.”

        The man stopped, concerned that he might have hurt him, but all Cullen wanted was to roll over and be on his back.

        “I want to see your eyes,” he admitted with a blush that both came from the momentum and his confession. Allen’s own cheeks went redder and he moved in for a kiss, his sex making his way back inside of the Commander. And that’s how they kept making love: eye to eye, breaths mixing and hands turning into caresses. Cullen’s fingertips felt the muscles in Trevelyan’s back flex with every thrust, and his palms soon moved to cover his buttocks, round, soft and twitching with his movements. Allen had set one to hold Cullen steady and close and another to jerk him. Sometimes, the Inquisitor’s glans rubbed against a sensitive spot that lit the Commander up, making him whine loudly and sending a pulse of pleasure to his shaft.

        “Cullen,” the rogue softly spoke. “I love you.”

        He replied with a gentle moan, and he noticed Allen’s pace growing faster. He guessed he was reaching climax, and that was a turn on for him.

        “Don’t stop,” he said, and more than as an order it came out as a plead. “Maker’s breath, don’t stop.”

        Trevelyan growled as his body began to tense and Cullen took care of his own pleasure, masturbating harder than the Inquisitor was doing it as he tried to lock their lips together. The more Allen rubbed against that spot, the closest the Commander got to finishing, and all of a sudden he found himself shivering and experiencing the most intense orgasm of his life, screaming so loud into the night he was probably even heard from Skyhold. He moved his hands back to the Inquisitor’s butt and groped it as he kissed his neck, making the man groan louder until he released his warm load inside the warrior, his moans joining Trevelyan’s. Cullen let his head fall back on the pillow and drowned in his lover’s eyes, filled with delight. He was aware he himself had a blissed look on his face. He took a few deep breaths between pants and chuckled in awe.

        “Holy shit...”

        “Holy shit,” Allen laughed happily. “At a guess, I would say I found your sweetest spot.”

        “I have no idea of what you did, but  _ that _ was amazing.”

“I’m really happy you enjoyed it.”

 

        The night was entirely clean of clouds, which allowed the stars to sparkle freely around the moons that Cullen could swear had indeed blushed. The breeze was starting to feel colder, so he placed a hand on Allen’s waist and pressed them together, sharing their heat.

        “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Trevelyan scoffed as he pointed to one of the drawings from  _ the book _ . They had cleaned themselves and settled at the balcony, surrounded by the sky and the sweet smell from the garden.

        “What are they even doing?,” Cullen wondered as he tried to figure out the position the figures were in.

        “I don’t think whoever wrote this ever had actual sex,” Trevelyan joked, then flipped the page.

        “Maker’s breath, what is that!”

        “I don’t think they have ever seen a penis either,” the Inquisitor bursted into laughter, and Cullen joined him.

        “It looks like what Sera drew on your report that time”.

        “Oh, dear, you are right,” he giggled, then moved a few pages forward. “Hear this, “social events”.”

        “Just how many people are there?!”

        “Around ten? I’m not really surprised to know orlesians throw these kind of  _ parties. _ ”

        “Have… you ever been to a celebration of the sorts?”

        Allen closed the book and shook his head.

        “Not to this level, no. But I’ve had sex with more than one person.”

        “Let me guess, this lover you used to have,” Cullen asked, still annoyed at whoever the man was.

        “Well, yeah,” Trevelyan admitted with a coy smile. “Although this time I didn’t get hurt. His friend was cute, actually, and the experience was quite erotic. Having two people go down on you… I mean, you can imagine.”

        He unconsciously did. And he blushed. And Allen noticed. It was a trap.

        “Well, well..., I see someone’s got a few ideas, huh?. Care to share them?”

        “No!,” the Commander looked away, face fully red. “It’s frivolous and it was wrong, and I apologize.”

        Allen laughed sweetly and kissed his forehead.

        “Don’t be silly, and don’t be ashamed of your desires. I won’t mock you or judge you for them. Everyone has them.”

        “But… isn’t it like cheating?,” he instantly bit his tongue, aware of how that might have sounded like an accusation, but it seemed like no harm had been done.

        “In my case, both my lover and I agreed on the experience, and we were both there. It was fun, the experimenting. All in all it didn’t change things between us. I hadn’t fallen in love with him because of the sex.”

        “Why did you?,” he found himself asking, putting aside the rest of the conversation.

        “I… I would rather leave that in the past. I wouldn’t want you to see me different.”

        “Allen, I’m... sorry, I… I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you...”

        “It’s not that… Let’s say I’m not proud of the man I used to be.”

        Cullen placed his hands on his shoulders and looked right into his eyes.

        “Listen, nothing from your past will make me think less of you. You’ve proven to be a good man and a good leader. And I mean it, since I personally saw you fight for your men and serve justice back at the Avaar fortress, for example. Another one might have ignored the request and abandoned them. But not you.”

        “Cullen, I...”

        “No, let… let me finish,” he scratched the back of his head before he continued. “Your people look up to you, admire you. I do myself. What you’ve done for Josephine, what you did for me during that whole lyrium situation… the way you treated me tonight. You are the most caring, strong and amazing man I’ve met.” He made a pause. He had gotten all flustered, but letting the Inquisitor know these things was important to him, and he couldn’t help but remember his conversation with Cassandra right before they had departed. “I’m proud of you, Allen, and I’m proud of having you as a leader. And I want you to know I will be by your side, no matter what. And that I love you.”

        Trevelyan’s eyes trembled and he threw himself into Cullen’s arms as he softly cried in his chest.

        “It weighs a lot sometimes, doesn’t it?,” he tenderly stroked Allen’s hair, soothing him. “I already told you this when you were named Inquisitor, you are not alone in this. Let’s get to bed. A long journey is ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

        Long. Too long. Cullen had innocently assumed the whole lyrium business had been buried for a while, but the so familiar headache returned as soon as they got in the ship and their way back to Skyhold began. Fortunately, it wasn’t by far as strong as they used to be, but the fact that he couldn’t just lay down in peace to make it go away made it persistent and annoying. To avoid worrying his lover and the mage, the Commander had accused it to the tiredness and sea sickness, and resting on Allen’s lap together with a mix Vivienne had prepared to ease his malaise made the pounding less drilling. 

        It turned to be a long week of traveling, and the mental image of his bed was more appealing than ever. Oh, how he wished to arrive already to the fortress and jump on his mattress, resting his head over the Inquisitor’s chest as he played with his curls.

        “Are you alright?,” Allen asked as they were finally crossing the Frostback Mountains.

        “Yeah, just tired. But we will be arriving soon,” he smiled, but truth was he felt every movement of his horse in his aching temple.

        “If I had known you were so sensitive to sea sickness I would have prepared a stronger elixir, darling,” Vivienne mentioned.

        “I will definitely mention it the next time I need to get on a boat.”

        The shape of the castle appearing on the distance made Cullen feel extremely relieved, but at the same time twice as tired. Unfortunately, their arrival promised just the opposite of a chance for resting, since they hadn’t even dismounted their horses when Josephine ran to greet them.

        “Welcome back,” she smiled. “The House of Repose sent letter the other day, confirming their contract on my life is null and void.”

        “That’s great news,” Allen grinned. “I’m glad to know you are safe again.”

        “Thank you, your Worship. You’ve done much to help me and House Montilyet. I was also hoping we could discuss your attendance to the Marquis’ party at the War Room. Leliana and I believe we could take some advantage from it regarding the Empress’ upcoming Ball.”

        “Of course,” the Inquisitor nodded. “But is it okay if Cullen skips this one? The journey hasn’t been kind on him and he could use some rest.”

        “Sure, Commander. Do join us if you feel better.”

        “Thank you, your Worship,” Cullen smiled, extremely grateful at his consideration, and before he could leave to his quarters Allen gave him a soft kiss on his lips, blushing him deeply and prompting a quiet chuckle from the Ambassador. He babbled a “see you later” and headed to his tower, still a bit dazed, both from the headache and the public display of affection, when he opened the door.

        “Commander!” Cassandra almost yelled

        “Maker’s breath, you startled me!”.

        “Cullen,” she cut him with urgency, “you have to read this. Now.”


	14. Chapter 14

          Each step he took on the stones of the main hall of Skyhold rumbled inside of his head, pounding painfully from the lack of lyrium which just fueled his already burning anger. Fierce, he crossed the crowded hall, people getting out of his way as if they feared he’d bash through them. Cullen paid them no mind, and straight up went towards the War Room, entering abruptly and slamming the door behind him, startling both advisors and the Inquisitor.

          “Cullen,” Allen spoke worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good.”

          Not even his voice could soothe him this time. The Commander locked his cold gaze on the Ambassador and smacked the table with all of his strength, making some map markers fall.

          “Explain this,” he ordered, pulling away his hand to reveal the letter Cassandra had received some days ago and had kept secret until his return.

          Both Allen and Leliana looked at Josephine as well, confused, and the Ambassador took the paper in her hands, her face showing a terrible intimidation. And as she began to read it, all sort of panic expressions formed in her semblant.

          “Read it aloud!,” the Commander barked.

          “Cullen, that’s enough,” the Inquisitor intervened with severity when he realized the woman had started to shake. But the warrior didn’t back down.

          “Our men are dead because of her!,” he shouted, an accusing finger pointed towards the Antivan. “She ignored the Avaar threat for four months! Four months!!”

          “That’s nonsense!,” Leliana protested, raising her voice to match the man’s and defend her friend.

          “Let me see this letter,” Trevelyan spoke in a soft tone, in a futile attempt to cool the atmosphere. And even though Cullen gave him the letter, he kept staring at the Ambassador as a lion hunting its prey. And thus, he did not see the way Allen’s face changed as he read. “Cullen, look,” he began to say, slowly, now catching the Commander’s full attention. “I understand that you are angry. And upset. And it’s not without reason. But don’t take this on Josie,” at the sound of her name, Cullen turned to her, eyes half closed, them opening wide when the Inquisitor finished talking. “This was my fault.”

          “Your Worship…,” Josephine tried to talk, but Cullen interrupted her.

          “W… what? You knew about this?”

          “The letter was addressed to me,” he lowly said, looking to a side. “Josephine was just the receiver of it.”

          Cullen felt as if someone had just ripped his heart out, set it on fire and then stepped on it. Of all people, the last person he would have expected to betray his trust, Allen was the last one. But there was no moment of sadness, not when every emotion he was feeling was feeding his rage and his headache, so It all blew up for him.

          “You knew it,” he repeated, spitting the words with pure disdain. “You knew all along and you ignored it?!”

          “Cullen...”

          “You lied to me!,” he shouted to stop him from making excuses. “You sent me to look for our men, and then you dared accompany me to pretended to make justice?!”

          “Cullen, it wasn’t like that…,” tears had started to form in his eyes, but he didn’t believe them, or him. Not anymore.

          “You left them to die,” he took a step towards him, threateningly. “Left them to rot. And then you fucking went to play the hero. Or did you kill all of the Avaar so that we could never know of it? Those soldiers fought for you, “ _ Herald _ ”. They believed in you.  _ I  _ believed in you!,” Trevelyan attempted to reply, but he could just step back as his words got stuck in his throat.  “I can’t believe I let you touch me! I’m disgusted at you!,” no matter if he wanted to, Cullen couldn’t stop himself from saying those things anymore, not even when a part of himself was begging him to stop at the sight of the pain in the eyes he had loved so much. And despite that, he took the ring the Inquisitor had entrusted him as a sign of his sincere love and threw it across the room. And yet, even though he had felt Allen’s heart shattered with such gesture, he dared pronounce the words he’d regret for his entire life. “I wish you had died at the Conclave.”

          His words instantly bounced back at him and smacked him in the guts with the force of a hundred trebuchets, freezing him on his place at the immediate realization of what he had done. He didn’t want to say that. He in no way meant to say that, but all the different kinds of pain he was in at that moment, the tiredness, the deception... All of that was taking over him, and yet it was no excuse. And yet… it didn’t excuse what the Inquisitor had done either. But did he deserve that punishment? Cullen didn’t know half of the story, and it was only now, after he had released all of his rage and was feeling numb, that he realized he hadn’t given the man he was supposed to love and trust the time to explain himself. But now, it was too late, a knot inside his throat preventing him from speaking as he watched a devastated and humiliated Trevelyan kneel to retrieve his ring. He tried saying his name, but his voice cracked. 

          Allen stared at the ring for a second, but he let it fall again as he shook his head, defeated, and then headed towards the door. However, he stopped before leaving to give Cullen some chilling words..

          “I wish I had died, too.”

          Cullen turned to the door, broken at hearing him say that himself. But the man was already gone, and all that was left for the Commander to do was falling back against a pillar and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor, weak, pale and with a heavy emotional hangover.

          “How could you?,” Josephine muttered, then shouted, tears down his cheeks. “How could you say that?!”

          She headed for the door, but Leliana grabbed her arm to stop her.

          “Josephine! Tell us what’s going on right now!”

          The Spymaster sounded loud and severe, but also worried and maternal, and the Ambassador broke down in her arms.

          “I can’t, I promised the Inquisitor I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

          “There isn’t going to be any other way to solve this,” Leliana insisted. “You have to tell us, Josie. For his sake. For all of our sakes.”

          The Ambassador took a couple of deep breaths to gather herself back and dried her tears, nodding as she realized she had no other choice.

          “I… I’m not sure of when this happened exactly,” she began, her voice still shaken. “It was Haven… A bit after his return from speaking with the clerics at Val Royeaux.”

          Cullen got up and slowly walked towards the women, both realizing the drop in his energy, but none commenting on it.

          “I got a message, sent to the Herald of Andraste,” she recalled, “so I went to Lord Trevelyan’s cabin to deliver it myself and I found him… He was crying. He had just received a letter from Ostwick.”

          The Commander swallowed, starting to guess where she was headed. Not that he expected what the Ambassador had to say. At all.

          “It was from his father, and in it he begged for the Inquisitor’s forgiveness. With his best intentions, he had purchased two ship tickets to Ferelden to send Allen a surprise.”

          “No…,” the Nightingale muttered in a gasp as if she knew something Cullen didn’t.

          “You mean… Allen’s parents or siblings… were at the Conclave?,” he tried to guess.

          “Not them,” it was Leliana who answered, taking a hand to her mouth as her voice shook with emotion. “Allen’s fianceé and son.”

          “His Worship got this letter right before the Avaar threat,” Josephine muttered. “He was blaming himself for not being the one to die instead of his son.”

          Cullen stopped listening, or being able to. He couldn’t even think much, just shake as his headache felt as if it was expanding through his body and slowly closing his eyes, only able to hear the Spymaster call his name before he passed out.

          “Cullen,” the Inquisitor’s voice was as soft has his lips against the Commander’s. The way the man danced on his lap was delicious and enticing, and the former Templar couldn’t help to smile wide at his name.

          “Yes?,” he asked as their eyes met, Allen smiling wide at him.

          “Cullen,” he repeated, “I’m going to die.”

          His smile remained, but it felt as if everything had gone cold, frozen cold.

          “W...what?”

          “I should have died at the Conclave,” he kept grinning. “I’m living with borrowed time already, but this,” he rose his hand where the Anchor was glowing a yellowish green. “This is going to kill me, Cullen. I’m going to blow up just like the temple of Sacred Ashes. Just like you wanted.”

          Before he could reply, the glow in his hand extended through the man’s whole body. And then he heard that impossible to forget explosion that had ended the Conclave, and with it, the man he loved disappeared in a blast that blinded Cullen.

          “Allen!!,” he screamed, jumping forward in a bed as he opened his eyes, soon realizing it had been a nightmare.

          “Commander, you are awake!,” he heard someone say behind him, but he paid no mind and got out of the bed, recognizing the infirmary around him. He got out of the building and ran across the yard, barely feeling the cold wind against his bare chest and ignoring the calls from the interior of the room he had woken up in. The only thing he cared about was finding Allen and pressing him in his arms. He felt the need to tell him how sorry he was and how much he loved him. And needed him. He didn’t know what had happened to him or what time or day it was, but that didn’t matter then.

          He crossed halls, dodged people and ran up all of the stairs, not stopping once until he was right at the door of the Inquisitor’s quarters, banging the door as he called for Trevelyan with urgency. And when he saw he got no answer, instead of leaving, he opened the door, feeling the immediate necessity of seeing him.

          “Allen?,” he asked, but he was alone in the room. He had only been there once, before it had been restored, so he looked around curiously, not wanting to touch or pry too much into anything of Allen’s. But he couldn’t help himself when he found three dolls over the chimney. The ones he had bought in Val Royeaux, Allen’s being on the left, the elf being in the middle and Cullen’s at the right. It didn’t take much for him to understand that the little elf must have been a representation of his son, which also explained his change of mood inside the toy store and much of his worryness regarding being in love, or Cullen knowing about his past. What was on that shelf was everything Allen wanted, and he was part of that. And he had told him he wished he had died. With tears coming out of his eyes he took Allen’s doll into his arms and hugged it as if it were the man, sobbing as he apologized out loud.

          “Cullen?,” someone called behind him, and despite his deep wishes that it was the Inquisitor, he found Leliana.

          “Where’s Allen?,” he asked her, brushing his tears off with his hands.

          “He left yesterday morning,” she spoke softly. “You’ve been out for two days.”

          “Where did he go? How is he?”

          “The Frostback Basin. And… he is broken. It didn’t help that he had to leave you… but his attention was required there.”

          The Commander placed the doll back where it was and sat on the bed, head resting between his hands.

          “I was hoping I could apologize to him, but he must hate me now.”

          “I knew Allen before the Conclave,” the woman told him. “It was a long time ago, before Vaehlen was even born.”

          “Vaehlen,” he repeated.

          “That’s his son’s name.”

          “Why didn’t he tell me about them? About his son and his fianceé?”

          Leliana sighed and sat next to him, thinking carefully the words she’d say before telling them.

          “I suppose he didn’t want us to worry, or for anyone to see the Herald of Andraste torn. Being a symbol, being the beacon of hope for Thedas allowed all of us to grief. And he rather do that than grief himself, even when it meant tearing himself inside.”

          Cullen remained silent, not even sure of what to say, so some time went by before he talked again.

          “His fianceé...”

          “Valyra. That’s the name. But that’s a story he has to tell himself.”

          “Right. As if he would even want to look at me.”

          The Nightingale punched him in the arm, not exactly softly.

          “I consider Allen a friend, so needless to say the thought of slashing your throat in your sleep for breaking his heart crossed my mind a few times. But despite that, he remained at your side until he was practically dragged out of the room. You can make whatever you want out of that.”

          As she spoke, she got up and walked towards the stairs, but a thought crossed Cullen’s mind.

          “Leliana.”

          “I would have,” she replied.

          “What? No. I want to ask something. I understand Allen’s family coming to Ferelden to see him. But why be at the Conclave?”

          The woman remained silent enough for Cullen to realize there was something more, and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t tell, but she seemed to change her mind since she turned around to face him, her hands behind her back.

          “It makes little sense, really. But considering Bann Trevelyan’s letter and the fact that they couldn’t be contacted after the Conclave it all seems to match. Or it did for Allen at first. Do you remember, before you left to Orlais, the Inquisitor and I had a… disagreement during a meeting?”

          “Yes. You wanted to know why he had visited a tavern in Redcliffe, and he got  _ very _ upset at you.”

          “I did some investigations and I found out who he was meeting with. You are not going to like it,” she smiled. “Are you familiar with a man named Seth?”

          “No, I haven’t heard the… Wait... he was meeting with his former lover?!”

          Leliana chuckled at his jealousy attack and kept speaking.

          “Yes, the man’s a bastard, but he is resourceful. When he is sober, at least. I contacted him while the two of you were away and he did say what Allen had asked him to investigate on his behalf. It didn’t make much sense at first, not until Josephine told us about Valyra and Vaehlen the other day.”

          “What did he say?,” he asked, impatient and also bothered by the involvement of the man.

          “He said there were rumors of a woman and a child leaving Ostwick before the Conclave. Just not in a boat, but in a carriage heading west.”

          Cullen’s jaw dropped open. There was a chance Allen’s family was alive, and Trevelyan had been trying to confirm this and find them. That’s why he seemed so upset at his return from the Hinterlands. The way everything was fitting into place was alarming, but there was still something in that puzzle that didn’t fit, and that was him.

          “So, this Seth believes Valyra and Vaehlen never came to Ferelden, but left in another direction,” he guessed. “Why would they do that? And if he thinks there’s a chance of finding her fianceé alive...”

          “He is not playing you,” she said with simplicity, elaborating after taking a deep breath as she seeked for a way to explain without getting into those affairs she considered the Inquisitor’s only. “I’ll put it this way: the only person he’d be willing to refer to as a fiance, despite everything, is you. As to why or where they are, we are working on it.”

          “W… we?,” he asked, looking away to hide the slight blush that had appeared on his cheeks at the thought of becoming Allen’s fiance and even the chance that he might forgive him.

          “Knowing the Inquisitor would be away for at least a week and that Seth was still in Ferelden, I asked him to come here.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's sexual harassment in this chapter

       It was impossible to sleep. Cullen had a lot on his mind, and every time he remembered how he had treated Allen a void opened inside his stomach and made him extremely upset at himself. To that, he had to add how much he missed his presence by his side. After two weeks sleeping on each other’s shoulders, or cuddled when they spent the night at the Marquis’ state, Cullen had gotten used to the weight of the Inquisitor’s head on his chest, his calm breathing, his smell… and it was so evident that a side of his bed was empty now that it was painful. Even more due to how everything had twisted in a matter of minutes. And now, he had to deal with one of the men he despised the most. He groaned to push his thoughts away and got out of bed, climbing down the ladder and heading outside, meeting the cold breeze of the night with a sigh.

       He walked over the bridge that connected to the tower and once there he moved to the throne room, the hall at the far left and up the stairs until he reached Allen’s quarters. He doubted before entering, though, since he didn’t like coming in uninvited. But that was the second place he’d rather be, it was the closest he could get to the man he loved. Carefully and quietly, as if anyone could hear him, he opened the door and swiftly went in, closing behind him. He walked up the stairs and met the dark room, only the pale moonlight through the massive windows allowing the Commander to see around him. Automatically, he got close to the fireplace where the three dolls rested. He took Allen’s into his arms and sat in bed, hugging it as he prayed to Andraste and the Maker that he would find in his heart the will to forgive him. He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes as he felt the Inquisitor scent on it, pressing the doll against him, silent tears rolling down his face until he fell asleep.

 

       Cullen had seen the two horses approach Skyhold through the windows of his office, both riders hidden under a hood, but certain one of them was the Inquisitor’s former lover. The thought of having to deal with him was like a punch in the guts, and he had no idea of the turn events were about to take. But this was the right thing to do for Allen, so he sighed and left for the War Room.

       The mood was still dry between Cullen and Josephine, and Leliana was entirely absorbed by her thoughts, so there was a heavy silence in the room until it got broken by the creak of the door that turned all of their gazes into that direction.

       The first man to enter was really attractive, blue eyes, the left one blind, blonde hair and feline features. He seemed young, maybe not yet thirty. The second man looked older and rougher, late thirties or early forties, with dark, shoulder-long hair and brown eyes. Before anyone could say a word, a gloved punch flew across the room, hitting the blonde man on the jaw.

       “Leliana!,” Josephine gasped, as surprised as Cullen was.

       “Hello to you too, dear,” the young man chuckled as he stroked his now red cheek, the older one not even flinching. “How long have you been wanting to do that? Seven years?”

       “Josephine, Cullen, this is Seth,” Leliana muttered.

       “Charmed,” he replied with an elegant bow. “This is Donovan, a good friend of Allen and I.”

       The man gave the advisors a polite gesture similar to the one Seth had done, but said nothing. Cullen crossed his arms in front of his chest, which prompted a metallic sound that caught the youngest man’s attention.

       “You must be the one who has been sleeping with my man,” he said, Cullen having to make a huge effort to not bruise his other cheek. “Too serious, but I guess not that bad.”

       “Tell us what you know about Vaehlen and Valyra,” Leliana urged, dryly.

       “All in due time, dear. Where’s my little bird?”

       “ _ His Worship _ is in a mission.”

       “Oh, I’ll worship him when he returns,” Seth grinned. “Until then I’ll be at the tavern. You do have a tavern, right? The journey has made me thirsty and cold. Maybe the dashing Commander would fancy warming me up?”

       He winked at Cullen, who’s hand shut in a fist as he contained his desire of punching him out of Skyhold.

       “I want to kill him,” the Spymaster said when the man had left.

       “Count me in,” Cullen grunted, spitting the words with disdain.

       “This once, I won’t stop you,” Josephine added as she stood between both advisors, the Commander and Leliana staring at her until the three started laughing.

       “I apologize for his behaviour,” Donovan finally spoke with an apologetic smile. “He can be quite a bitch. Unfortunately, he did not share his information with me. The bastard is stubborn and he is determined to speak only with Allen.”

       “What of you?,” Cullen asked. “If it wasn’t to bring information, why did you come?”

       “Seth mentioned Allen  _ was _ the Inquisitor. When I heard a Trevelyan had taken the lead of the Inquisition I assumed it was Adrian, his eldest brother, since he is a Seeker. Allen did right by me in the past, so I want to offer my help, and definitively scold him for not writing about it earlier. That man won’t ask for help until the very last moment.”

       “Tell us about it…,” Leliana smiled.

 

       Cullen and Josephine left the room to let Donovan and Leliana discuss his place in the Inquisition, which also gave the Commander the chance to be alone with the Ambassador for a moment.

       “Josephine…,” he began. “I… I’m deeply sorry about my behaviour the other day… it was unworthy of me.”

       “You don’t need to apologize, Commander,” she politely smiled. “Leliana explained everything. Besides, my gratefulness for your help in saving my life matters more than a scrap.”

       “I still want you to know that I’m sorry. What happened to you could have happened to any of us, and I wish I had been in a better control of my temper at that moment.”

       “We cannot blame you,” Josephine sat on her chair and took a quill. “We are just glad to see you standing again.”

       “Thank you,” he shyly smiled, then left her to her work.

       He found an unpleasant surprise, though, as he reached the door to the rotunda. Inside he could hear Solas talking to the bard, and for a moment he considered taking the long route to his tower just to avoid the man, but on the other side he could just walk by and completely ignore him. Something like that seemed to be the kind of thing that would hurt his pride, so he ventured inside. Seth was sitting on Solas’ desk, the mage painting on one of the walls as he talked about some experiences of his in the Fade. Like many of the other Inquisition members, Cullen found his obsession with the fade a bit strange, but he was slightly curious about his abilities, as well. He was no expert, of course, but he had spent enough time in the Circles to hear about different magic practices, including the ones of the mages called  _ somniari _ . He had even met one before, back in Kirkwall, and the dangers he posed exceeded Cullen’s expectations. He could change the Fade at his own will and even kill people in their dreams. The mere thought was unnerving and chilling, but Solas was quite different from than young man. Solas was experienced, calm and intelligent, and his purposes seemed to be entirely about earning knowledge, not hurting others. A few conversations with him had eased the tension they both shared at the start and there was now a certain cordiality, trust and mutual respect. Still, he had no idea why he would be talking to someone like Seth.

       “Solas,” he greeted him as usual, both used by now to crossing paths every time the Commander headed to the main building of the fortress.

       “Hello, Commander.”

       “Cullen, what stuff do your mages smoke? Elf chiseled chin here says he bangs demons in his sleep?”

       Cullen stopped on his feet, feeling how Solas’ face twisted at those words. This time, he couldn’t stay quiet, so he turned to the man.

       “You will address every member of the Inquisition with due respect or you will be out of Skyhold before you can even blink.”

       “A Templar defending an apostate was just what I expected to see in the Inquisition,” Seth chuckled. “With a bit of hocus pocus and some smut it could give for a really good romance novel. But I do apologize if my jokes are not of your tastes. I wish not to be on your blacklist, Commander. I got lost on my way out and stumbled upon your friend. Maybe you will be my knight in a shining armour and take me to the tavern?”

       “The door to the left. Go down the stairs. The building right in front of this one,” Cullen replied as emotionless as he could.

       “Much obliged, handsome.”

       When he was gone, Cullen rested his forehead on the wooden structure where the mage was painting.

       “I’m going to dream about killing him repeatedly tonight.”

       “It seems our newest guest is going to be hard to deal with,” Solas spoke, his soft tone hiding the annoyance Cullen knew he was feeling. “I thank you, though, for your assistance.”

       “Don’t mention it. Something tells me he is going to upset everyone in this castle before midnight.”

       After that, the Commander left for his office, where he hoped to take refuge from the despicable man Allen had been in love with, something he tried not to think about, since he couldn’t understand how someone like Trevelyan could stand someone like Seth.

       Losing his mind on his work allowed him to almost brush it all away, and he soon found himself wondering how Allen would be doing. Would he still be upset at him? Jumping on a horse and riding to the basin had crossed his mind more than once, but it could make things worse, so following Leliana’s advice he made an effort to be patient. If he could at least find out something more about his family’s fate he would have something to cheer him up, but he didn’t think Seth would talk about it even if he beat the bard. Not that he would do that. Not that he didn’t want to. 

       He had noticed he was trying to play with him, and maybe if he followed a bit he would be able to find a way through the man. Even if it sounded like an ordeal, he owed Allen that much.

       Not to his surprise, he hadn’t had to wait until that night to see him again, since the bard made an act of presence at his office when the sun began to go down. The Commander took a deep breath to try and relax his face and kept reminding himself he had to try and be kind and patient, so he called him in as neutral as he could.

       “I have to say I was quite disappointed when I saw you weren’t coming,” he spoke as he came in, seemingly more serious than before.

       “There’s much that requires my attention,” Cullen replied with simplicity.

       “Right, busy with work. You are not exactly a walking party.”

       His tone suggested he was trying to make a point, and the Commander decided to take the bait.

       “What is that supposed to mean?”

       “That I don’t get how Allen could set his eyes on you,” he sentenced, completely destroying the calm Cullen had tried to keep until then.  _ He _ dared say that?!. “Granted, you are hot and I’d love to peel off that armor of yours, but you are so stiff and dull.”

       “And you are an unbearable bastard,” the Commander bursted fiercely.

       “There we go, the fereldan dog barks. Does he bite too?.”

       “What do you want, Seth?”

       The bard suddenly smiled and sat on Cullen’s desk, far too close to him for his taste.

       “Glad you asked. I meant what I said, I do want to see what’s under that armor,” one of his hands went to touch the ex Templar’s chestplate, but the man slapped it off like a fly and stood up.

       “Have you lost your mind?!,” he shouted with rage, stepping away from him.

       “What? I do like angry sex.”

       “Get out of here,” Cullen’s breathing became intense and threatening. “Now!”

       “Are you sure you want me to leave? Because I know where Vaehlen is.”

       His mocking smile was the last straw for Cullen, so he grabbed the man by his vest and pushed him against a wall.

       “Tell me what you know!”

       “Or what? You will tell Allen you killed his friend and his only hope of finding his beloved little brat?,” he chuckled. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

       “If you think I will be unfaithful to Allen, with you no less, you are deranged!”

       “Then I’m afraid the boy will die.”

       Cullen released the man, took a deep breath and punched him in the face, bursting Seth’s lip.

       “Fine,” he said, spitting blood and massaging his bruise. “We’ll do this the hard way then. You either lay with me tonight at Allen’s quarters or I disappear tomorrow and believe me, the kid dies. Take your chances, Commander.”

       This said, the bard left the tower, leaving Cullen alone with an anger he took out on the stuff on his desk, which he pushed to a side throwing it all onto the floor.

       “Son of a bitch!,” he groaned, punching the wooden table, unsure of what to do. A drawer had slightly opened from his hit and he knew Allen’s letter was in there. He wondered how far was he willing to go for this man, and the sudden realization made his eyes open wide. He’d do  _ anything. _

 

       Allen’s bed was so stupidly comfortable it almost made Seth fall asleep more than once. But he had to stay sharp, for he was certain that the Templar would fall into his hands after his threat. He had read through him as soon as he had started talking: righteous, faithful and fair. If he had to choose between Allen and him or Allen and his son he’d pick the second, and that had made it easy for him to manipulate Cullen. Sleeping with him was a mere side benefit, the real deal was that if he couldn’t have Allen for himself, then no one else could. At least no one so weak as to renounce to him like he was certain the Commander would do, and when he heard footsteps up the staircase a wide smile of victory appeared on his face.

       He stood up to greet Cullen, but had no time to speak, since the fereldan’s mouth claimed his with urgency and passion, leaving Seth completely stunned as the other man’s hands touched all of his body. His lips were relentless and fiery, and when he bit his neck and grabbed his buttcheeks Seth groaned loudly.

       “What is this?,” he moaned. “Did you drink or something?”

       “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?,” Cullen asked.

       “Works for me,” the bard replied, kissing him back and stroking their bodies together as he fought to undo the other man’s clothes.

       “We have a deal,” the Templar broke the kiss to remind him, and Seth chuckled, caressing his face.

       “I’m a man of my word, but I’m no fool. Until I see your lips around my dick I’m not saying a word.”

       “Works for me,” Cullen grinned, making his the words the bard had just said, then knelt before him and abruptly yanked his pants down, taking him in his mouth before Seth could even feel the breeze.

       “Maker, I see why Allen likes you,” he muttered, biting his lips. But the Commander’s stare suggested urgency, so he rolled his eyes and stroked his hair. “Fine, I’ll talk, just don’t stop. Valyra sold the tickets Bann Trevelyan gave her and hired a carriage to get out of the city,” he explained as the man deliciously savoured him. “She took Vaehlen with her, to the west at first, but then they headed north…”

       Cullen let Seth’s sex slip out of his mouth and stood up to begin undoing his pants. It was all going too fast for Seth’s personal taste, but his willingness and his muscled body were far too sexy to complain. He tried to return the favour, but Cullen pushed him back with a finger.

       “You keep talking,” he said, then started sitting on his lap as he kissed his neck.

       “Fuck…,” he moaned, and still took the Commander’s length in his hand as he felt his own enter the man. “Alright, um… the trail gets lost there… Andraste, you are tight… There’s a Dalish clan, though… the Inquisition should have enough resources to find it… Clan Lavellan.”

       “Good boy,” Cullen smiled, then kissed him as he began to dance on his lap.

 

       The sun had risen a couple of hours ago, warm and shiny, or as much as it could be in the Frostback Mountains. But it was a good day for Cullen. With a wide smile, he decided it was time to check on Seth, who would probably be packing the little things he had had time to unpack in the mere day he had spent at Skyhold.

       He jumped the steps in pairs and he finally reached Allen’s room.

       “You left early this morning,” the bard protested as he fastened his bag. “After last night I thought you’d be up for a show biz.”

       “I take it you had fun,” Cullen said, resting against a pillar.

       “Don’t play pretend now, you are the one who was on fire, almost like a dream.”

       The Commander chuckled and then smirked.

       “That’s because it  _ was _ a dream,” he slowly spoke.

       “What?”

       “I spent the night at my tower, sleeping alone,” Seth arched an eyebrow, and Cullen proceeded to explain his revenge plan. “How did you put it? A bit of hocus pocus and smut?”

       It took the Orlesian a few blinks until he started to understand what had really happened, and when he did, he laughed and shook his head.

       “The elf… he got in my head...”

       “Turns out you have a particularly weak mind.”

       “Well played, Commander… Your resolve is admirable, I underestimated you… it won’t happen again.”

       “Oh, it won’t,” Leliana grinned as she joined them, followed by a bunch of Inquisition guards. “The only thing that would please us more than you leaving Skyhold is getting you chained. I can’t wait to see what the Inquisitor will do to you when he learns how you played with the two people he loves the most.”

       Seth made no comments as he was getting cuffed and dragged by the guards out of the Inquisitor’s chamber, and even if he kept his annoying smug face, Cullen had noticed the shadow of defeat in it, and when he and Leliana were left alone in the room, they discreetly shared a high five.

       “Excellent thinking, Commander,” the Spymaster congratulated him.

       “Solas is slightly upset, but hopefully his information will help us find Allen’s son.”

       “I have contacted some of Allen’s friends at Ostwick with Donovan’s help. They’ll scout the forests until our men arrive.”

       “Good,” Cullen nodded, and then Leliana started walking out of the room, but threw a comment before she disappeared.

       “Who knows, maybe you’ll end up parenting before you anticipated.”

       The warrior gasped and lit up like a flame at the thought. She was teasing him, obviously, but he then looked to the three dolls that sat together on the hearth and unconsciously smiled.

 

       Solas had shown himself reluctant to Cullen’s plan at first. He admitted it was smart, but remarked how reckless it could be. Nonetheless, he had agreed to it, and truth was if it hadn’t been for him Cullen would have had little choices to get out of Seth’s trap. He had tried to thank the mage that morning after he had given him all of the information Seth had pattered in his sleep, but had shown himself cold and distant, so he had decided to give him some space. But he met with him again outside of the small shrine Skyhold had at the garden, and he understood he had waited for Cullen to finish praying for Allen’s safe return before talking to him.

       “Commander,” he spoke, but took his time to munch the words before sharing them. “Last night was wrong. You shouldn’t rely on this kind of magic out of desperation.”

       “I… I apologize. I thought you wouldn’t be at risk.”

       “Me?,” the mage asked, surprised.

       “I know this is a dangerous magic, but I was certain neither Seth’s life or yours would be endangered. That’s why I trusted you to do it.”

       Solas blinked, slightly surprised as well as confused.

       “I didn’t think you’d trust an apostate mage.”

       “Neither did I in the past. But I learned to avoid judging actions before tags. You earned your place in the Inquisition, and I wouldn’t have suggested any of this if I didn’t think you were in control.”

       “That’s… reassuring,” the elf nodded, seemingly less upset. “I shall leave you to your duties now.”

       At first, Cullen thought of letting the mage go, but he changed his mind and called his name.

       “Solas, would you care for a match of chess?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every hit in this story Seth gets a punch in the face


	16. Chapter 16

       “This one is yours, too, Commander,” Donovan sighed as he sank in his chair.

       “I told you, I’m the one holding the chess trophy in Skyhold,” Cullen smirked, resting back and crossing his arms proudly.

       “I see your tactician skills transfer well to the board, indeed,” the Free Marcher politely smiled. “Although, I doubt this victory was as satisfying as it was to outsmart Seth.”

       “Not even close,” he snorted. “Have you gone to see him?”

       “Nah, he’s punished,” the man grinned. “Hopefully, he learns his place this way.”

       Cullen nodded, distractedly, as a question he already wanted to ask Allen also reformulated for Donovan.

       “Hey, I’m curious. How did Allen, you and Seth meet?”

       “Seth and I met in Orlais, in Val Chevin, a long time ago. I was a mercenary, and he happened to join our group for a time for some extra coin. We became good friends after that, and when I moved back to Ostwick I piqued his curiosity and he tagged along. Allen I met much later, through Seth, in fact. I had met one of his siblings in the past, you’d be surprised at how different the Trevelyans are among themselves,” he chuckled briefly, lost in the memories of what seemed to Cullen like happier times, more simple, to the very least. “You know, I’m really looking forward to seeing him again. And I pray this whole enterprise hasn’t changed his spirit.”

       “How was he? When he was younger.”

       “A piece of sun,” he giggled, “In that, he was the same as his sister. Always with a smile for the people around him, he used to sing around the taverns playing the lute, to sooth the worries or fears of the drinkers, he said. He cared deeply for people, and tried to help in any way he could. That didn’t change when he became a bard.”

       “I guess he hasn’t changed much,” Cullen grinned widely, blushing slightly as he pictured a younger Allen without the weight of the Inquisition over his shoulders, only his own dreams to follow.

       “That’s comforting to hear. And I have to say it makes me happy to know he recovered his faith in love. It was always so important to him, yet so hard to keep it.”

       “How come?”

       Donovan blinked twice, surprised at Cullen’s lack of knowledge on that very specific matter, and he leant on the table to turn the conversation a bit more private.

       “Well, both Seth and Valyra were unfaithful to him.”

       “Of Seth it’s not hard to believe, but I thought Allen and Valyra were going to marry,” Cullen pointed out, although truth was he knew nothing about this woman, and he was hoping Donovan would clear his doubts.

       “Wait, you don’t know Valyra’s story?,” the Commander shook his head and leant in too, waiting for the Marcher to continue talking. “First of all, there is some mystery around her. No one really knows her origin, if she’s Dalish or if she was born in Ostwick. Whatever the truth, Allen and her fell in love. You can imagine, a nobleman and an elf, it rose some eyebrows, particularly Allen’s mother’s. Eventually, Vaehlen was born, and Allen decided he’d propose. Things didn’t go as planned, and he came to find Valyra in bed with no other than his twin brother.”

       “The mage?,” Cullen gasped, surprised, still keeping his voice low. “Wasn’t he in the Circle?”

       “Clearly, he had his way in and out of it. Don’t ask me how, but many mages got… benefits from the Templars. And Axel did too, and he found the perfect way to take revenge on his brother for locking him up.”

       “What then? Didn’t he try to break the relationship?”

       “Well, he never really proposed to Valyra. You see, he found this out  _ before _ he got that chance, so that ring you are wearing never touched the girl’s finger.”

       The Commander reached for the white ring unconsciously, the one Allen had entrusted him, and the one he had thrown to the floor on that dreadful evening. He had found it the next day, and he had found it hard to wear it again, not feeling worthy of it, but at the same time, it was what encouraged him to make up to Allen.

       “But if they weren’t engaged...”

       “Why all the charade? It would have been a scandal, dear. It already was, the fact that a noble human and a commoner elf were involved and had a son. That the twin brother got in the way? Too much in Allen’s mother’s opinion. So they dragged this “engagement” for years, always a motive to not make it happen, until a solution was found. Allen’s family probably saw it in the Conclave.”

       “So, what happened to Axel?”

       “No one knows,” Donovan leant back again. “He vanished that night. If he hadn’t Allen would have killed him. Either way, he got his family’s rejection and his title removed. Wherever he is, he has little, now.” 

       “What a bastard… It seems like everyone he loves ends up breaking his heart. And I did that too… Damn it!”

       “What did you do?,” Donovan asked in a soft tone, so empty in prejudgement that it made Cullen feel brave enough to talk about it.

       “I… I told him something horrible. It was a bad moment, there’s not a single day I don’t regret having said that. And the worse part is I didn’t even get the chance to apologize before he left. He must hate me now...”

       “You look like a good man, Cullen,” the Marcher smiled warmly. “Allen isn’t one to hold grudges, and if he gave you that ring, that’s because he loves and trusts you like he hasn’t done before. Whatever happened between you two, I doubt it was enough to break your bond. I’m certain he’ll be more than eager to return to you.”

       “That’s… thank you…,” the Commander smiled coyly, rubbing his neck as a bit of sorrow faded into hope. “Maker’s breath, I should return to my duties!”

       “Right, I’ve kept you for long enough.”

       Both men got up, but before leaving, Donovan offered his hand, and Cullen shook it with a smile.

       “For all that Seth has done, I’m glad I was brought here. If you need me, I’ll be around, Commander.”

       Cullen nodded and saw the man disappear in the garden, and he himself started walking towards the main building when Mother Giselle called his name.

       “Commander?”

       Like a child who forgot to tidy up, Cullen turned towards the chess table.

       “Right, I forgot to clean this!”

       “Oh… No, I meant to speak with you, if you had the time.”

       “I should really get to my post, Revered Mother,” he replied with respect. “Could we talk this evening?”

       “Of course, I don’t mean to disrupt your work. I will be here when you are ready.”

       Cullen bowed his head and left for his post in the camps below Skyhold, were the training of the Inquisition forces never seemed to stop. It was a busy place, bustling with soldiers running here and there, supplies being distributed all around and a thousand other things that required the Commander’s approval. Yet in the last week keeping his head around all that had helped him greatly to get by the days, and as a guilty pleasure, when he needed to put so rage out, he could spar with Iron Bull. Josephine would disagree about it, but hitting things was an excellent relief of stress.

       Of course, he felt quite curious about whatever it was Mother Giselle wished to discuss, but it didn’t trouble him much. She always seeked for the greater good, and in a way that was comforting.

       “Looking stiff, lad!,” a familiar voice with a husky accent spoke behind him, making the Commander smile.

       “Rylen, when did you return?,” they both shared a warm handshake and Cullen accepted the document his second-in-command offered him.

       “This morning. The journey was crap, but the results were worth it.”

       “Indeed… excellent job! I assume you will disappear under a pile of blankets for a week.”

       The Knight-Captain laughed and shook his head.

       “If only… I will be taking some rest now, though, but I will be visiting the tavern up there tonight. Join me, I bet there’s catching up to do.”

       “Sure, but now get to sleep before I throw a pile of reports at you,” Cullen teased.

       “Please, do. I could use some kindling.”

       After sharing a complicit laugh, Rylen left for his tent, and the Commander returned to his duties. In a way, he was glad to have a friend back at Skyhold, but on the other hand, he felt tremendously embarrassed to tell him about everything that had happened with Allen. Not that it really mattered considering the Inquisition soldiers shared more gossips than the Orlesian Ladies in Waiting. Chances that Rylen would learn about it before he even reached his bedroll were high, so he moved to the other side of the camp where he was sure he wouldn’t be able to find him should he want to ask and probably mock a bit. 

 

       As the sun started to hide behind the massiveness of the Frostback Mountains, Cullen began to organize his reports before calling his working day done. Once the documents were properly placed on a corner of his desk, the Commander left his tower and headed for the garden, where Mother Giselle used to spend her time. He was intrigued about her request to speak, but also slightly worried. Sometimes, the Revered Mother could be a bit nosey, and if this was a case of wanting to discuss his involvement with the Inquisitor, Cullen wouldn’t have it. Still, he gave her the benefit of the doubt and cordially bowed his head when he found her standing in front of a couple of pots where two plants were still to flourish.

       “Commander,” she greeted with her strong orlesian accent.

       “What did you wished to speak about?,” Cullen asked, trying to cut right into the topic.

       “I know of the Inquisitor’s…  _ friends  _ arrival. I heard much of particularly one, the one called Seth.”

       “For all he’s done, he has also provided useful information. And he can’t do any harm now.”

       Mother Giselle half closed her eyes, looking for a way to make her point.

       “Yet he remains in Skyhold.”

       “As a prisoner, his fate must be decided by  _ His Worship, _ ” the man said, still with due respect, but emphasizing who was the one to make choices.

       “Let me put it this way: I’ve know people like Seth and they can make the strongest willed men crumble. As long as he is in Skyhold there is a threat to the Inquisition’s path.”

       “I trust the Inquisitor’s willpower enough to be certain this man won’t be a stone in his way.”

       “I… see. I meant no disrespect, Commander. I’m merely concerned about this man’s presence given his past with the Inquisitor. I will leave the rest to you.”

       “Very well. Anything else?”

       “No, that would be it. Thank you for your time, Commander.”

       Cullen nodded respectfully and turned around to leave.

       “Actually, that’s not it,” Mother Giselle said, nonetheless, causing the Fereldan to face her again, the woman now holding a watering can in her hands. “Would you mind helping me?”

       Cullen blinked twice, slightly bothered at the ridiculous help request on watering two pots, but did take the can.

       “What are you growing?,” he asked as he soaked the first plant.

       “I am not growing anything. These are Cassandra’s and Allen’s.”

       “Oh…”

       “I take care of them while they are away. Cassandra planted a crystal grace, and the Inquisitor...”

       “An embrium,” Cullen smiled as he watered it. “His favourite.”

       Mother Giselle nodded and placed the can back where it was, near the pots.

       “They will flourish soon. It’s a pity they won’t be here to see it. The blooming of a flower is similar to that of love in one’s heart: beautiful, soft and pure, but fragile at times.”

       “That’s… poetic.”

       “They are His Worship’s words. Although we are fortunate that our hearts last for more than one spring. Again, thank you for your time.”

       This time, Cullen did leave, although the thought of returning later that night crossed his mind. If Allen couldn’t see that flower bloom himself, maybe he could, and tell him about it when he came back.

 

       To his own surprise, he found himself sitting on the cold stone bench in front of the plant right after dinner. He didn’t know much about botanics, but he did know there was no guarantee that this flower would bloom tonight. Still, it felt nice to be there, and the breeze carrying the garden’s smell soothed his thoughts. Almost alone there, under a sky full of stars, his mind began wondering to much more positive thoughts than those that had stuck in his mind for that whole week. Even his prayer at that moment turned sweeter, even hopeful, and kept him so distracted he jumped startled when a hoarse voice spoke behind him.

       “There you are, lad!”

       “Maker’s breath, Rylen!”

       The Free Marcher sat on the bench next to him and pat his back.

       “I thought you’d be at the tavern. Instead I found a very loud elf girl, I can’t complain about this change of scenario,” he grinned, and Cullen nodded.

       “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

       “I could tell,” the man said as he took a canteen out of nowhere, then had a sip. “You seemed quite absorbed in yourself. What were you doing?”

       “I was praying.”

       “To a branch?”

       “This is an embrium.”

       “Woah, lad. You and the Inquisitor are serious if you are going for a kid.”

       “An embrium, Rylen, not an embryo!”

       A loud laugh left Rylen’s chest, leaving Cullen with a slight blush at not having noticed the joking tone.

       “You are indeed too stiff, Cullen. Here, drink.”

       The Commander shook his head with a little smile and had a taste of whatever beverage was in that can.

       “So… you heard about me and the Inquisitor.”

       “Hard not to, gossip and rumor seems to be now-a-days entertainment for soldiers. That, and debating which one of you takes it.”

       “Sweet Maker,” Cullen sighed, rolling his eyes.

       “Well?,” Rylen asked. “Who takes it?”

       The Commander turned to him, shocked, and another hoarse laughter filled the silence in the garden.

       “I see you are in a very good mood tonight,” Cullen chuckled.

       “Nah, you are just easy to tease,” he replied, letting some time pass before he spoke again, in a more serious tone. “How  _ are _ you, Cullen?”

       At first, the Fereldan considered playing pretend, but he realized it would be for naught. Rylen had been a member of the Templar Order, and he knew well about Cullen’s situation with the lyrium, and even though he didn’t enjoy the topic, if someone would understand him that would be him.

       “The pain… it comes and goes,” he admitted, decayed. “Nightmares have become a bit less frequent, but still persists. It’s affecting my life in every single aspect, from my work to my relationships… even my sanity.” Rylen placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, and Cullen sighed. “I’m trying hard, though. Thanks to Cassandra and Allen I didn’t give up but...”

       “I’m sure they help,” his friend nodded. “But you gotta do this for yourself, lad. You deserve that, and if anyone can beat this, it’s you.”

       Cullen was about to thank him when the Marcher pressed the canteen against his lips.

       “Drink!,” Rylen commanded, making Cullen chuckle and spill the drink, having both of them burst into laughter.

       “Commander,” Solas’ voice spoke near them, “I thought I had heard a familiar voice.”

       “Solas, what are you doing here?”

       “The garden is usually calm and quiet. It’s a good place to explore the Fade.”

       “I apologize for the noise,” Rylen rushed to say. “We’ll keep it down.”

       “Oh,” the mage chuckled. “I didn’t mean to sound accusing, I’m no chantry mother.”

       “Imagine…,” the Marcher murmured, his voice low under Cullen’s next question.

       “Did you discover anything about the stronghold?”

       Solas placed his hands behind his back, appreciative of the question, and with his head up, he spoke.

       “Not yet, I’m afraid, much to Leliana’s disappointment. But I might, eventually.”

       “Is something the matter?,” Donovan asked, standing next to Rylen.

       “See, now this is starting to seem more like a party,” he giggled, rising his canteen. “Drink, anyone?”

       “We are discussing Skyhold,” Cullen replied. “Donovan, this is Knight-Captain Rylen, my second-in-command.”

       “Nice to meet you, lad. You are the one who came with the guy in the dungeons, right?”

       “I sense I’m getting a reputation,” he replied scratching his head, but still with a smile. “A revered mother practically jumped at me earlier today to interrogate me about him.”

       “She asked me about him, too,” Cullen sighed. “She suggested we kicked him out of Skyhold before Allen arrived.”

       Rylen snorted, but neither Solas nor Donovan said anything at first.

       “Perhaps… perhaps you should listen to her, Cullen,” the Inquisitor’s friend finally said.

       “He is in a cell,” the Commander insisted. “He is toothless.”

       “He is the kind of man who can be lethal without wielding a weapon, or magic, Commander,” Solas reminded him.

       “I’m not as worried about what Seth might do,” Donovan told Cullen, “as about what Allen might do to him when he learns what he’s done.”

       The Fereldan was about to reply when, all of a sudden, Cole appeared in front of him startling the group. His hands grasped Cullen’s pelt and his eyes, full of pain, opened wide.

       “Maker’s breath, lad, you almost killed us from a heart attack!,” Rylen protested.

       “Cole?,” Solas tried to call his attention before the young man spoke, in vain.

       “Painful, freezing, bleeding. My vision feels dark, but it’s clear. My body feels light but it weighs too much to move.”

       “Sweet Andraste, is he okay?,” the Knight-Captain insisted, but both Cullen and Solas were listening to him carefully.

       “The heart beats slower, colder, like the surrounding snow.  _ Not like this. It can’t end like this. _ Roaring, cracking, shivering.  _ Maker, protect them. _ ”

       “Who is it, Cole?,” Solas asked, rising his voice.

       The spirit then set his eyes on Cullen’s, staring deeply into him.

       “ _ You were right, Cullen. Forgive me. _ ”


	17. Chapter 17

       Cullen’s steps where swift and determined, as much as the orders he barked as he made his way outside of the fortress and into the cold night.

       “Rylen, wake Leliana up. You and Cole tell her about this,” he spoke, and the man and the spirit left, Solas and Donovan keeping up with the Commander as they stepped down the stairs in the yard.

       “We must hurry,” the mage spoke. “I’ll get some supplies for the journey. We shall meet at the gates.”

       “I suppose the Inquisition has shortcuts and fast routes in their maps,” Donovan asked as the elf left both humans.

       “We recently secured a road. There are some more dangerous paths. I’ll be taking them, but I’ll mark a safer one for you. There are Inquisition camps there, so they shall guide us to wherever Allen is.”

       “No need. I’ll be right behind  you.”

       As soon as they reached the stables, Cullen picked the three fastest horses, mounting one and holding Solas’ reins.

       “Commander, what’s going on?,” Blackwall asked, leaning out of the barn.

       “The Inquisitor - and thus your friends - might be in trouble,” the Free Marcher explained.

       “Maker’s balls, let me accompany you.”

 

       Not much later, the impromptu team met at the gates of Skyhold, and quickly began their ride to the basin as fast as they could, across snow, tight passes and slipping slopes, the rogue, the mage and the warrior making a huge effort to keep up behind the Commander, but none complaining or trying any less hard. And even if tiredness and the freezing breeze seemed to be trying to force them to stop, they didn’t. Not unless it was strictly necessary, not for any longer than needed. But their effort was not in vain, and they managed to reach the basin in a record time, even leaving Scout Harding speechless when she saw them enter the main camp.

       “Commander!,” she gasped. “How...? I sent the raven barely a day ago!”

       “What happened?,” he bursted as he jumped down of his horse. “Where’s Allen?”

       “They are at the Avvar strong hold,” the dwarf explained. “I’m afraid the situation hasn’t changed in these hours.”

       “What situation?,” Donovan inquired, explaining after seeing Harding’s confused look. “We didn’t get any reports. That mysterious boy, Cole, warned us about the Inquisitor being in danger and we rushed here.”

       “Have the Avvar kidnapped them?,” Cullen grunted, his hand closing into a furious fist, ready to be thrown at any barbarians he saw.

       “No, these Avvar are friendly, they are currently taking care of his Worship. Come, those horses need to rest, we have more here. I’ll explain everything on our way to the hold.”

       If Cullen had been worried before, he was even more now as he mounted a new horse. To hear that Avvar were taking care of Allen already felt disgusting, even if the Scout said they were friendly, but the fact that he  _ needed _ to be taken care of was even worse, and he was terrified to learn how worse. Just the expression on Harding’s face suggested a mayor event had happened, and everyone noticed, since no one dared to interrupt her explanations.

       “To summarize our time here,” she began, “we were tracking Inquisitor Ameridan’s steps. We found two Avvar groups, those friendly from the Stone-Bear Hold, and a hostile group under the name of the Jaws of Hakkon. It turns out Inquisitor Ameridan faced the latter group eight hundred years ago, as they were trying to bind Hakkon’s spirit into a High Dragon, making a God mortal. The Last Inquisitor was unable to kill the beast, but managed to keep it trapped, until this new Jaws of Hakkon broke the spell and released Hakkon.”

       “Go on,” Donovan urged, since Cullen was unable to speak due to a knot in his throat.

       “We fought Hakkon,” Harding sighed, tired. “We managed to take it down… but barely, and with a great cost. Lady Cassandra and Lord Pavus almost perished, saved at the last second by Madame de Fer.”

       “What of Allen?,” the Commander managed to articulate.

       “He… he wasn’t in the range of the spell,” the Scout lowly spoke.

       “How is he?,” Cullen asked, his heart starting to beat fast, but the dwarf didn’t reply. “Harding! How is he?!”

       She closed her eyes tightly, then looked down, defeated.

       “I’m sorry, Commander,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

 

       It didn’t matter much that there were Avvars everywhere upon their arrival to the hold. At that point, Cullen didn’t care about much other than finding Allen, refusing to believe what Harding had told them. It didn’t help finding Dorian and Cassandra, both surprised, but looking devastated when they saw him. They looked as if they had been through a whole war, yet with no apparent mayor injuries, probably thanks to Vivienne’s spell. The mage, however, was nowhere to be found.

       “Cullen… you arrived fast,” the Seeker spoke in a soft voice, almost broken.

       “Are you both alright?”

       Both of them nodded, almost looking ashamed, and Cullen didn’t realize that they really were, for they felt they had failed the Inquisition, and particularly Allen.

       “Come,” Dorian said. “He’s at the Augur’s hut.”

       Every step towards the wooden building made a void inside of Cullen grow like a hungry beast, his heart pounding so fast he feared it would come out of his chest. He was terrified, no longer worried. It was pure fear, of what he might find, and of what he might lose. The Tevinter opened the door for him, but didn’t go inside.

       “He is conscious at times,” he explained, then looked down. “I’m sure seeing you will make him really happy… make the most of it.”

       The Commander took a deep breath, then ventured inside the hut with slow steps, the door closing behind him. And in front of him, near a blue round fireplace in the ground, rested the Inquisitor, all covered in a thick black and grey mud. He froze at first, Cole’s last words echoing in his mind, but with Allen’s voice: You were right, Cullen. Forgive me.

       Little by little, he got closer to the Inquisitor, dropping to his knees next to the bedroll were he laid, not even aware of the tears that were falling down his cheeks.

       He was pale and cold, and now Cullen could see that the mud was placed over big wounds that covered his torso. He looked for his hand and took it, placing a kiss on it as he started to sob.

       “I’m sorry, Allen,” he cried, and the man reacted to his touch.

       “Cullen?”

       “Allen,” the Commander whispered, placing a hand on the Inquisitor’s face.

       “You came,” a slight smile drew in his scarred lips, and his eyes opened a bit. “I’m so sorry I lied to you, I-”

       “Forget that,” Cullen interrupted him with a broken voice, caressing his cheek. “I’m the one who’s sorry, I should have never said that.”

       “No, you were right. I wasn’t good enough, not for you, for the Inquisition or my own family. If I had died at-”

       “No,” he cut him again, now holding his hand tight, speaking quickly with impatience. “No, Allen, we need you.  _ I _ need you. And your son needs you. We are looking for him, so you have to heal soon, alright?”

       “Vaehlen,” Allen smiled widely as his eyes filled with tears.

       “Yes, he was never at the Conclave. We will go get him. Together.”

       “Please, promise me you will make sure he is safe, and that you will give him something for me.”

       “Allen...”

       “Please, Cullen,” this time it was Allen who interrupted him with a bittersweet smile, then weakly pointed towards his belongings. “It’s in the small pouch.”

Much against his will, Cullen released the Inquisitor’s hand to look for the bag, emptying it’s content in his hand and breaking again in tears when he recognized the sovereign he had given Allen in Orlais as a good luck charm.

“You kept this,” he cried, amazed that he still carried it with him despite how badly he had treated him in Skyhold. But this time, Allen didn’t answer.

 

       Even if it was common for people to enjoy the breeze from the ocean, Cullen had always detested it, from the waving to the smell. And yet sitting on that rock facing the water below the cliff was the only thing he felt like doing right then. Behind him, back to back, Cassandra supported him, silent, and to his right, Dorian sat with his face buried in his hands. He had lost track of everyone else in the hold, but he then spotted Vivienne at the edge of the cliff in the other side of the village, staring into the distance as he was. The Commander wished he could blame her, hate her even, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even cry now, as a fact, as if all of his emotions were blocked in his eyes. But then, his gaze met the mage’s, and after some doubt, the woman turned around and walked to reach them, Cassandra getting Dorian’s attention so that they would leave them both to speak.

       “Commander,” Vivienne said when they were alone.

       “What do you want?”

       “I suppose you blame me for this,” she said, slowly. “I miscalculated when placing my spell, but I assure you I acted to the best of my ability.”

       “Okay,” he replied, dryly, not expecting much more from the woman than justifying herself. “Is that all?”

       At first, the mage seemed like she was going to reply, but sighed instead.

       “Yes, that’s all” she said, visibly regretting her choice of words. But as she turned around to leave, Cullen stopped her.

       “I do not blame you,” he said. “And neither would Allen.”

       For a moment, the mage stood there, quiet, giving her back to the Commander. When she spoke again, her tone was entirely different.

       “I was deeply in love with Duke Bastien,” Vivienne murmured, then faced Cullen filled with emotion. “I was so in love I searched for a way to make him cheat death, and when I lost him… it was the most intense pain I have felt in my life.” Cullen softened his expression, feeling sympathy for a mage who always seemed made of steel, but who’s eyes were now trembling with contained tears, as well as guilt. “I want you to know that I’m truly sorry about not saving Allen, and I wish you didn’t have to experience this clawing feeling.” She made a stop, then stepped back as she whispered the last words. “Or anyone.”

       And before Cullen could say anything, she left, elegant as always but fast, at a guess not wanting anyone else to see her like that. And the Commander knew what they had just shared wasn’t something usual for her. Toying with Allen’s ring he thought about what Vivienne had said. “A way to cheat death.” 

       Suddenly, a small sphere of yellow magic flew in front of him, playfully trying to catch his attention. Initially, Cullen thought it was a firefly, but a double take made him realize it was a spirit and he quickly jumped back, placing his hand over the pommel of his sword. However, the wisp caused no harm and flew around the man, then away, stopping after a few meters. It wanted him to follow, and Cullen did. Because, in a way, that thing reminded him of Allen.

       “Commander?,” Solas called him when he saw the man run by his side.

       “Cullen!,” Dorian tried too, with no success in stopping him, so both mages went after.

       The playful sphere of light danced it’s way out of the hold and headed to the mountains surrounding the swamps. Cullen, followed by the mages, jumped branches and climbed rocks, going past carvings in the stones.

       “Andraste…,” Dorian said. “I know what this is.”

       As they climbed the last rocks, they found a ruined hut and a rustic shrine, where the wisp placed itself.

       “You,” the Tevinter spoke to it. “You are the spirit that blessed Allen the other day.”

       “Fascinating…,” Solas spoke. “It is rare for a spirit to gift someone who isn’t a mage.”

       “The Avvar who made the offering said spirits were intrigued by the Inquisitor”, Dorian explained. “Apparently, they sense the Anchor.”

       “But why did it lead us here?,” Cullen asked, slightly hopeful.

       “Hold on. Cole brought us here. Could this be a spirit of compassion too?,” the elven mage wondered, amazed.

       The spirit seemed to whisper, gentle and soothing, but no intelligible words were said.

       “What is it saying?,” the Commander impatiently asked. “Could it help Allen?”

       “Cullen… you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

       He knew Dorian was right, but if there was a chance, no matter how faint it was, that Allen could live, he’d take it.

       “We won’t be able to talk with it here,” Solas pointed out, and then, the spirit vanished.

       “Where did it go?!”

       “To the Fade, perhaps. I could try to speak with it, Commander.”

       “You realize this could be a trap, yes?,” the other mage inquired.

       “I’m willing to take the risk. If it is a compassion spirit as I believe, then it would make sense for it to go find Cullen, particularly when it was already tied to the Inquisitor,” he then turned to the Fereldan. “Commander, I’ve met many spirits in my journeys to the Fade. Trust me on this one.”

       “Be wary, Cullen,” was all Dorian said, and although he wasn’t fond of relying on a spirit, he trusted Solas. And he was desperate.

       “Do it.”

       The elf nodded and sat against the shrine, closing his eyes to fall asleep while Dorian and Cullen remained vigilant.

       “Dorian,” the Commander spoke after a while of silence, interrupted only by the elf’s soft breathing. “What did happen?”

       “You really want to know?”

       He actually gave a thought to that. It really didn’t matter right now what had happened, and the mage clearly didn’t want to talk about it. And on second thought, what good would it do to him to know? He couldn’t change what already was, and finding a “what could have been done” benefited no one.

       “No,” he replied in the end.

       “If you wish to know, I will tell you. You deserve that much. I just rather not. Allen is… my dearest friend. Perhaps my only friend, and being there...”

       “It wasn’t your fault.”

       “Such statements are hard to believe at a time like this, ain’t them?,” Dorian took a deep breath and crossed his arms, looking at Cullen in an apologetic way. “Listen, I want to believe as much as you that this spirit can help us, but we mustn’t forget their nature, or the fact that even if they are honest, they cannot make miracles.”

       “I know,” the Commander nodded. “And I know this goes against everything I’ve believed, but I can’t help to think that if it were any of us in his place, Allen would do the same.”

       “You felt him too, yes? In that wisp.”

       “Yes,” he replied, looking at the shrine. Both of them stood there, staring at where the spirit had faded, and after a bit Cullen spoke again. “Dorian? We are… friends.”

       The mage chuckled and shook his head, slightly amazed.

       “What a lovely sentiment, Commander!,” he replied, recovering a bit of his usually ironic tone. “But I appreciate that.”

       Soon, night fell on the basin, and the mage lit up a fire to keep them warm while Solas continued to explore the Fade. For a while, Cullen and Dorian caught up, explaining to one another what had been going on in the past week both in Skyhold and at the basin, but after a couple of hours, Cullen began to worry. He had already seen the mage at work, and was well aware it was worth the wait, but he still wished he could go himself to talk to this spirit. Nonetheless, he doubted such thing was possible, so the only thing left for him to do was to walk around as time passed.

       “Sweet Andraste, will you stay still for a minute?,” Dorian protested as he shivered next to the fire.

       “I’m sorry…,” Cullen scratched his head and sat next to him. “Are you alright?”

       “I’m sitting on a rock, all wet and cold,” he replied. “Aside from that? No, I’m not.”

       The Commander took off his pelt and covered the mage with it.

       “Here, this will warm you up.”

       “Don’t, if you get a cold on my account the Inquisitor will kill me.”

       “It’s alright, I’m not that cold,” he said, then went to check on Solas. “Do you think he’s okay?”

       Dorian buried his face inside of Cullen’s pelt and scoffed.

       “Please, he has spent more time in the Fade than in Thedas. The man will be fine.”

       “It’s been two hours already… maybe we should-”

       All of a sudden, Solas opened his eyes with a gasp, startling both men.

       “Quickly!,” he urged as he got up and started to run. “We must return to the Inquisitor.”

       Barely able to put out the fire, Dorian and Cullen jumped after him, starting to run back the path they had followed under the wisp’s guidance.

       “What did you learn?,” the Commander asked.

       “The spirit, it’s trying to keep Allen alive,” he explained. “But it can’t do it forever.”


	18. Chapter 18

       “My dear, you definitively lost your mind to the Fade,” Vivienne spoke, so calm it made her sound even more offensive, but Solas straight up ignored it.

       “It is our only hope to save Allen,” he said, plainly.

       “It’s true that the Inquisitor’s Anchor has been buzzing a lot lately,” Cassandra admitted. “And it’s true this… spirit caused no harm to him on their first encounter, but that doesn’t mean we should trust it.”

       “I agree,” Blackwall added. “You wanna leave the Inquisitor’s life to a demon? What if it possesses him?”

       “Allen is no mage, which means he cannot be possessed,” Dorian corrected him. “This… spirit only has a connection to the Anchor, it would seem. Considering he is already dying I don’t see what interest it would have in harming him.”

       “It is not ideal, but this is the best we have,” Cullen said, trying to end the debate there, which did not work.

       “Even if this were all true, the spirit has failed to save him,” the Seeker pointed out. “What do you intend to do?”

       “Allen’s wounds are more severe than they seem from the outside,” the elf began. “No ordinary magic would be able to heal them, and the spirit of compassion can’t go past his hand, speaking in a… simple way. However, there is something we can try. A ritual, if you must.” Upon seeing they all remained quiet, he continued. “If we poured enough magic on the Anchor, we could “energize” it, and the spirit might be able to heal the Inquisitor.”

       “That is preposterous,” Madame de Fer sentenced.

       “It’s not that different from what we did to close the Breach with the aid of the mages.”

       “Except now we would be empowering a demon,” Cassandra grunted. “And this time, all that magic won’t go to the Breach, but solely to the Anchor.”

       “We could end up causing an explosion like the one at the Conclave,” Dorian had to admit.

       “Indeed, it could,” Solas nodded, not seemingly worried. “But there are steps we could take to prevent such fate from repeating itself. We merely need to put the residual magic into a vessel.”

       “What, like a person?,” Cullen asked.

       “Something bigger, enough to contain a big amount of magic. I believe there’s a High Dragon’s corpse nearby.”

       “This is all pure speculation,” the Orlesian mage protested, crossing her arms. “The same could be said of getting this spirit into the Inquisitor’s head. Tell me, Cullen, should Allen become an abomination, would you drive your sword through his heart?”

       “He is already dying anyways,” Donovan, who had been quiet until then, was the one to answer with a hoarse voice. “He is dying as we speak, and neither of you seem to care in the slightest about it. Even if you don’t love Allen, you can’t have him die. He is invaluable to the Inquisition  _ and _ to Thedas. Without him, we are all dead anyways. Mage, you call this idea preposterous? I find preposterous the fact that none of you is seeing that this might be the only way of saving your own asses.”

       “Finally, someone speaks some sense,” Thane Sun-Hair groaned from behind, listening to them while sitting on her throne.

       “So you are saying we should risk everything, go against all we know, just because we are desperate?,” Cassandra asked him.

       “If our time here has taught me anything,” Dorian intervened, “is that we understand little of what we know. Are we going to ignore everything we discovered? From Inquisitor Ameridan’s story and the Seekers of Truth to the Avvar knowing of ways to cancel possession without resorting to beheading?”

       “Indeed, the world is more complex than what the Chantry teaches,” Solas added.

       “If you want to play under the Chantry rhetorical, then be my guest,” Donovan barked at Vivienne. “But do it elsewhere. Because I say we do this ritual and try to save our friend.”

       “I agree,” Cullen said, defying Cassandra’s piercing look.

       “I do too,” the Tevinter said. “Like Cullen said, if it were any of us in his place, Allen would do the same for us.”

       “It seems like we are outnumbered,” Blackwall sighed, referring to him and both women.

       “My heart is… divided,” Cassandra admitted. “Give me some time to think about it.”

       “You might want to be quick,” the Augur spoke, entering the cave. “Inquisitor First-Thaw doesn’t have much time left.”

       As they all dispersed to consider Solas’ plan, Dorian approached Cullen, who nervously walked around the place.

       “I’ll try to convince Cassandra,” he said. “but you will have to ensure Vivienne’s help somehow. Her healing magic is the most powerful among us, we need her.”

       “She won’t,” the Commander sighed. “I thought our sympathy would be enough, but it’s clearly not.”

       “Of course it isn’t,” the mage chuckled softly. “You have to actually change her mind, or to the very least, have her doubt enough to agree to perform this spell. Consider this a chess game, but at a massive scale.”

       Cullen was about to protest in every way possible when Dorian walked away, leaving him grunting exasperated. It would be easier for him to cast the spell himself than to change Vivienne’s mind. Although if that was all he could do, he’d at least try.

 

       The hold remained the same as it was when they had arrived earlier that day, even the Avvar seemed to not have moved from their places. Cullen wished time had stopped for real and it wasn’t just a feeling, since a relentless ticking sounded in his mind, counting minutes down until it was too late for real to do anything. Trying to avoid making eye contact with the Avvar around - and repressing his hostile feelings as much as he could -, the Commander made his way through the cliff to where Vivienne’s shape was, slightly lit up by the moons. To reach her, Cullen had to go past a cave where a woman was preparing the dead, something that felt like an awful omen at that very moment. He couldn’t bare to see Allen in that cave, not by chance.

       “Vivienne,” he called her.

       “Don’t waste your time, Commander, I won’t participate in your monstrous plan.”

       “I know,” he said, and the mage turned to him. And as he expected, he  _ knew _ what the woman was feeling. “I know you are in pain, and I can see the guilt in your eyes. Guilt for not saving Bastien, and guilt for not saving Allen.”

       “You know nothing.”

       “I know because I feel the same,” Cullen spat the words. “Over a mistake  _ I  _ hurt Allen, and not having made it could mean he would be standing now, just like if you had properly calculated your spell. But we didn’t. We failed Allen, and this… this is our chance to right that wrong.”

       “Through a ritual supported by barbarians.”

       “I was a Templar,” he reminded her, fiercely. “It was always clear, anything out of the ordinary meant the automatic termination of a mage, whether it was death or tranquility. It was what the Chantry said, black or white. And now we learn that Tranquility rites can be undone, that possession can be undone, we learn there’s a whole grayscale in between. We are surrounded by people who are expanding their knowledge beyond what we thought was true, and you, who follows the Chantry rhetoric, even after knowing it’s filled with lies, call them barbarians. You, who are willing to let a friend die over false teachings, are the barbarian.”

       Cullen didn’t entirely agree with everything he had said, or rather knew it wasn’t as simple as he had put it, but still stood by it, specially when he saw the mage slightly flinch. He gave her no time to respond, though, and left her to her thoughts, hoping that to the very least she’d reconsider her position.

 

       It wasn’t much later when they met around the fire in Thane Sun-Hair’s throne room, all but Vivienne. The mood was indeed less tense, but all of them, at different scales, still showed doubt. And while Cassandra seemed to be a bit more agreeable to the plan due to the critical situation, Blackwall maintained his position against, either not trusting the plan or, in Cullen’s perspective, trusting Solas.

       “We haven’t the time to continue debating this,” the Commander protested. “We must do something at once, before it’s too late.”

       “It is maybe too late,” the warden replied.

       “Have you listened to anything we talked about in the last hours?,” Dorian mocked him.

       “Lady of the Skies, you lowlanders are a mess. Don’t you have a leader?,” Svarah inquired, exasperated.

       “We do, actually, but he happens to be indisposed at this very moment.”

       The Thane rolled her eyes, ignoring the mage’s comment.

       “Who among you has the highest rank?”

       Dorian pointed at Cullen, who scratched his neck.

       “He is the Commander of the Inquisition and one of his Worship’s advisors,” he explained, not letting the other’s interrupt him. “According to Allen’s own words, should he be unable to, it would be his advisor’s job to make consequential decisions, am I wrong, Blackwall?”

       “You are not,” the man grunted between teeth.

       “And considering reaching Leliana and Josephine in time is out of question, I’m fairly certain that makes Cullen the only responsible adult here.”

       “Plus, Cullen being Allen’s lover has to mean something,” Donovan added.

       “Right! They are engaged, that has to count.”

       “Engaged?!,” Cassandra and Cullen gasped at the same time.

       “Isn’t that an engagement ring?,” Dorian grinned.

       “Our  _ engaging _ process are different from yours,” the Thane sighed, “but we do recognize your authority, Commander. You shall decide if you will proceed with the rite or not.” 

       “We will,” he sentenced with determination, acknowledging Blackwall’s disapproval. “Will we count with your support, Thane?”

       “I meant it when I told the Inquisitor he is kin to us. The Augur shall guide and assist you through the ritual, and we will provide an offering for the Gods. Now go, and prepare yourselves.”

       As they exited the cave, Cassandra pulled Cullen to a side, and for a moment the Commander thought she would scold him for having made that choice without a consensus, but it wasn’t the case.

       “Look,” he said. “I did what I had to.”

       “And I stand by your decision,” she softly spoke, to his surprise. “A part of me says this is the right thing to do, and another screams this is madness, but I can no longer tell which one is my heart, and which my mind.”

       “I understand,” he nodded, sitting then on the floor. “I’m not even sure this is the right thing to do. I mean, this is completely crazy, but how can I ignore it? How is not trying to do something a better choice?”

       Cassandra sat right next to him, resting her head over his shoulder.

       “It’s the safest choice, perhaps the more logical. But… it doesn’t make it the right one, if there’s one,” she made a pause. “Walking away from one’s path is not easy, this Inquisition has proven as much, but making a decision like this is even harder. Allen would be proud of you. Hopefully, he will.”

       “Thank you,” he whispered, fighting back emotions. The woman then stood up and offered her hand, helping him incorporate.

       “Come, we’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

       They walked up to where the Augur’s hut was, right where Allen had been resting for this whole time, and joined their team and the Avvar.

       “Commander,” Solas called him. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

       “The Avvar says this ritual will resurrect the dragon,” Blackwall spat.

       “What?!,” Cassandra gasped.

       “ _ Might, _ ” the elven mage corrected him. “Albeit, temporarily. There are chances a spirit might take over it’s body during the ritual aided by the excess of magic, but once the ritual is done, the beast should return to it’s decaying state.”

       “Unexpected necromancy, and for once it won’t be my doing,” Dorian cheerfully said. “Why must there always be a dragon to make things complicated, though? We should find whoever named this age and salt their remains.”

       “I understand you need us to fight it off until the ritual is complete,” Cullen spoke.

       “It would be convenient for you to stay, Commander, just in case.”

       Dorian threw his hand to his moustache, with a questioning face.

       “If you, Cullen and I need to stay here to perform the ritual, that leave only Blackwall, Cassandra and Donovan against a High Dragon. The same dragon that almost killed Allen. How sensitive is this?”

       “You can go with them, my dear,” Vivienne suddenly spoke from behind. “I’m sure the Thane can also spare a few Avvar.”

       Despite everyone’s surprise at her presence, no one said anything, not even Dorian. Cullen would make sure to thank her later, though, for having her in the ritual was a tremendous comfort for him, aware of her extraordinair healing skills.

       “We shall go then,” Cassandra sighed, concerned. “Best of luck, Commander.”

       “Likewise,” he nodded.

       “One tiny detail,” the Tevinter pointed out before they left. “How will we know the rite was started?”

       “Fear not, lowlander,” the Augur replied. “You will know.”

       “Ominous,” Dorian answered, and then the group left, leaving Cullen, Vivienne, Solas and the Augur alone.

       “We have to make the proper preparations and give them time to reach the dragon,” Solas said. “Use that time to gather your faith.”

       Cullen nodded with his head, aware of the contradiction of that and what they were about to do. But he got what he meant, so he headed for the hut.

       Seeing Allen in such state was heartbreaking. His tan skin was now pale and the area around his eyes had darkened. He was truly in his last breath, and whatever the Avvar had given him to keep him alive wouldn’t last for much longer. However, Cullen didn’t feel as if he were dying. Whether it was denial or hope, he felt he’d see the man stand again, he felt he’d recover from this and return to him like he had done after Haven. Yet, he prayed while holding his hand. He prayed for the Maker to ensure precisely that: having Allen back once more. And while he was praying, Solas leant in the hut to inform him it was time, and that’s when Cullen’s heart began racing. He took a deep breath to gather his strengths and gently caressed the Inquisitor’s cheek, leaning then to place a kiss on his lips.

       “I’ll see you at dawn,” he whispered, then got up to as the group went inside to begin preparations.

 

       The Augur had placed himself opposite to the door of the hut, and Vivienne was in front of him, at the other side of the round fireplace that stood in the center of the hut. A support made of wood planks had been set over it, and Allen laid there now, with the Avvar at his head, the Orlesian mage at his feet, Solas to his left and Cullen to his right. Candles lit with blue fire, or veil fire according to the mages, were placed all around them. In his hands, the Commander held a bowl filled with plants, pieces of meat he prefered not to identify, and bones. He was the one to hold the offering, Solas would keep the Anchor stable, Vivienne would cast the healing spells and the Augur would summon the compassion spirit.

       “We may start,” Solas’ voice filled the silence. “Vivienne, focus past the mark.”

       “I know what I have to do,” the mage spat, clearly tense, but still did it and pointed her left hand towards the anchor, casting a warm light that made the Anchor react.

       However, it was when the Augur began singing a canticle in an ancient language similar to tevene when Cullen felt his blood go cold and his heart drumming in his ear. To this, Solas’ elven whispers joined, and the bowl with the offering suddenly got caught on a green fire, startling the Commander, who almost threw it to the floor.

       “Are you sure of this, Commander?,” Vivienne mumbled. “It’s not too late to go back.”

       “Let’s keep going,” was all he answered, swallowing hard as he saw the Anchor sparkle.

       All of a sudden, the candles made a blasting noise and all turned to a yellowish-green tone, spirits appearing all around them.

       “Maker’s breath…,” Cullen muttered, terrified, memories of the demons at the Circle in Ferelden coming back to his mind.

       “Relax, Commander,” Solas softly spoke, focused on Allen’s hand. “They’ve been drawn by curiosity, but they mean us no harm.”

       “We should stop this at once,” the other mage said, lowly, Cullen even sensing a slight of fear in her voice.

       Although it was trying for him, the Commander tried to ignore the spirits around - and behind - him, locking his eyes on Allen, expecting something to happen, but so far, nothing had changed.

       “It isn’t even working,” Vivienne pointed out, clearly upset at the situation. “I knew this...”

       “Wait!,” Cullen gasped at the sight of Vivienne’s spell shinning through one of Allen’s wounds. “It’s working… it’s healing from beneath his skin...”

       This same light began to appear through Trevelyan’s other wounds, but it wasn’t enough still.

       “Just a bit more,” the elf whispered.

       Madame de Fer augmented the intensity of her spell and as a reply Allen’s eyes snapped open, shining blue, the Avvar canticle growing louder while the spirits whispered to accompany him.

       “What’s going on?”

       “It’s the spirit,” Solas explained. “It found it’s way into Allen through the magic, and it is restoring him.”

       “I can’t believe we are letting that thing into the Inquisitor...”

       “It will come out, and as soon as it does you’ll have to...”

       “I know what I have to do,  _ dear. _ ”

       Cullen wasn’t really listening, for he had frozen at the sight of his lover, all soaked in magic and mud as that whole madness happened around him. At last, a spirit exit Allen’s body, dragging with it what Solas had called “residual magic” and vanished in the sound of thunder, Vivienne swiftly dancing her staff to conjure a powerful spell that drew a light symbol below Allen and filled Cullen’s ears with the melody of an harp. The Inquisitor’s body was raised by it’s power, a pair of magical wings materializing on his back as he was incorporated in the air and the gently placed on the floor, standing, in the most beautiful display the Commander had ever seen. As the magic faded away, Cullen rushed to Allen’s side to help him stand, and this time, when he opened his eyes, they were the emerald filled with life the Fereldan loved so much.


	19. Chapter 19

       Solas had insisted on doing a full check up with the Inquisitor before anyone else got to see him, since according to him the uniqueness of the situation required a particular care, and perhaps overwhelming Trevelyan with information or emotions could go against his recovery. So Cullen and Vivienne had to wait outside, and that made it obvious the mage wasn’t happy with the Commander, since she didn’t say a word to him. He understood, though, so he didn’t push a conversation and stared quietly at the door.

       Half an hour later, the elf hadn’t come out of the hut, but the other party returned to the hold, none of them hurt, but all dirty.

       “Maker’s breath, what happened to you?,” Cullen asked as soon as he saw them.

       “Did it work?,” Donovan nervously asked, burying his question.

       “Ah, yes! Solas is making sure everything is alright before we can see him.”

       “Thank the Maker,” Cassandra sighed, and so did the rest.

       “And we didn’t even have to fight the dragon again!,” Dorian chuckled, much more cheerfully as he usually did.

       “Thank you, Cullen,” Donovan spoke as he hugged the Commander, who blushed slightly. “And thank you.”

       He was referring now to Vivienne, who’s expression didn’t flinch.

       “Thank me once we are certain there is no trace of demons in the Inquisitor.”

       “So, what happened down there?,” Cullen asked again, looking to direct the conversation elsewhere.

       “We saw the magic being drawn to the beast,” Cassandra explained. “For a moment, we feared it might come back.”

       “Yeah, it trembled a bit, and Cassandra already had her sword stuck in it’s neck,” the mage mocked.

       “It moved!,” the Seeker protested in a grunt. “An odd light came out of it’s wound, and it… exploded.”

       “Exploded?”

       “Quite the mess, as you can see. Probably not even a dragon is big enough as a vessel for such magic.”

       “For a moment I thought we’d opened a rift,” Blackwall commented.

       “Imagine! The last thing we need is Cassandra tearing the Veil with her sword!,” Dorian laughed, causing Donovan and Cullen to snort while the woman simply made a tired disgusted noise.

       A bit later, Solas came out of the hut and they all turned to him, hungry for good news.

       “He is fine,” he explained. “But it’s better to keep it quiet and calm, so if you want to see him, go one by one.”

       Dorian then pushed Cullen forward and pat him in the back.

       “Go. You both have to catch up.”

       The Commander swallowed hard and nodded, then went to meet the Inquisitor. The interior of the place was now much more serene without a spirit to be seen. Allen was also no longer lying down unconscious, but sitting on the bedroll, wrapped in a blanket that allowed Cullen to partially see his chest, still with the healing mud that now only served as a reminder of what almost had been.

       “Hi, Cully,” the man softly said at seeing him, a wide bright smile forming on his lips, making the Commander shake with emotion.

       Words got stuck in his throat, and unable to speak his mind, he threw himself to his knees to tightly embrace Trevelyan, which wore off every bad feeling he’d been sunk in for all that time. The ritual had worked for real, and he only believed that in that moment, when the man was in his arms, hugging him back, with the familiarity of his hair tangling with his fingers and that particular way the Inquisitor had of embracing, one he now identified as that of a father, and that always made it feel like home and that everything was going to be okay.

       “I’ve missed you,” he finally managed to say. “Please, forgive me.”

       “Cullen, you have to stop apologizing,” Allen replied as he broke the hug to stare into his eyes, tenderly holding the Commander’s face in his hands. “You saved my life. I think that accounts for everything.”

       Cullen stroked his hand fondly and closed his eyes, fearful of what the Inquisitor might reply to his following question.

       “Allen… Do you still love me?”

       For a bit, he remained like that, waiting for an answer like a prisoner awaits a sentence. But he didn’t expect his to be a soft kiss that lingered even after their lips had stopped touching.

       “More even than before,” Trevelyan whispered, and Cullen opened his eyes in surprise.

       “But why?”

       “You risked everything for me, and gave me the biggest gift in the world,” he made a pause as a tear ran down his cheek. “You gave me hope, and a second chance. And I promise you I will make things right.”

       “And I promise you I will be at your side to support you, and not the other way around.”

       Allen chuckled and hugged him again.

       “I rather you promised me you will let go of that.”

       “You should know by now I’m not good at letting go,” Cullen answered, pressing the man against his chest.

 

       Cullen didn’t get much more time to be with Allen during that morning, since everyone else wanted to have the chance to see and talk to him. Even if it kept them apart, it filled with joy to see how much everyone cared for him, even Blackwall, with whom the Inquisitor didn’t have a close relationship, or Vivienne. The latter still wouldn’t cross a word with Cullen, though, but still showed herself relieved at the safety of his Worship. That was enough for him. Allen hadn’t had anything to do with this, it had been the Commander’s decision and he would take responsibility for it. He understood if some of them didn’t agree with that, but they had to hold that against him and not Trevelyan, and it was good that this was being the case.

       “Commander,” Donovan called behind him.

       “Did you talk to him?”

       “Yes,” he nodded with a smile, then stood next to him, both facing the horizon. “This is hardly the meeting I had in mind, but all things considered I got to. And it was because of you, so you have my eternal gratitude.”

       “I’m just glad this is over. I don’t want to think of what could have happened, or what I’d do without...”

       Don gave him a friendly pat on the arm and smiled.

       “You won’t have to guess. I heard you both are on good terms. I suppose you didn’t bring up Seth and his actions at Skyhold.”

       “No. Did you?”

       “Allen has enough on his plate right now. I mean, returning from the dead? I can’t imagine it being easy to figure out what that means,” he crossed his arms and took a deep breath, and Cullen could feel his stress coming out with his exhale. “Be wary, though. You’ve changed him, there’s no way he will be the same as before. How much, and in which sense, we’ll see in time.”

       Cullen simply nodded. He didn’t need to say that he agreed, because that would be obvious to anyone who knew a bit of his past. He himself had faced things, situations and people that left an indelible mark on him and molded his personality to who he was right now. But he knew and trusted Trevelyan enough to be certain his nature, his core, would remain intact, and he was willing, or rather wished, to be by his side to guide him should he doubt, just like Allen had done with him when the lyrium withdrawal felt too much to deal with. Standing there he realized how much he had underestimated love in it’s true meaning, and to him that was to have someone who didn’t do the things for you, but reminded you of your strengths and helped you push forward.

       “So,” Donovan spoke after some silence, “now that this has been taken care of, what comes now?”

       “Halamshiral,” Cullen spoke. “I despise the idea of drowning in politics, but I can’t say I’m not glad that the Inquisitor won’t have to face an army so little after this happened.”

       “Don’t fool yourself, Commander. Tongues can be sharper than swords and swifter than a dagger to the back.”

       “I’m not sure if you are sounding more like Leliana or Josephine right now,” he chuckled.

       “Right,” he grinned. “Although Allen has always been good at those trash talks. He’s still a noble, I suppose, so he will be fine.”

 

       That evening, the Avvar has planned a celebration, an honoring to the Gods they thought had healed the man they referred as Inquisitor First-Thaw. He never thought he’d be keen to them after what happened in the bogs, but their help had been vital, and they had indeed treated Allen as their kin. Nonetheless, it wasn’t advised for him to attend, since he needed rest and mostly quiet. On the other hand, that gave them some privacy to catch up and reconnect, something Cullen needed despite Trevelyan’s insistence on his forgiveness.

       “Can’t you really sneak some food for me?,” Allen asked again while the Commander struggled to undo whatever outfit the Avvar had put on the Inquisitor.

       “You heard Solas, no solid food today,” finally, the knot untightened and he was able to undress the Inquisitor. “Maker’s breath, these people and their ropes.”

       “I’m starving,” he protested, getting into a bathtub filled with water that Dorian so kindly had warmed. “And thirsty, and bored. He has forbidden food, wine, sugar, exercise, sex and almost even walking.”

       “You don’t even like wine,” the Commander chuckled, both men focused on getting the  mud off his body, which proved to be harder than they had anticipated.

       “Right now I’d even drink darkspawn pee.”

       “Allen, please,” he laughed harder now. “Behave.”

       “Sorry,” the Inquisitor grinned. “I’m just feeling hyperactive. A side effect from being brought back, I guess.”

       “After seeing you so weak, watching you like this is like a gift. Save your energy, you will have plenty of time to use it. We’ll do our own celebration once we are back in Skyhold with a big banquet and all the food you can eat and wine you can drink. I’ll make sure you get plenty of cakes and all the dummies you want to punch.”

       “Yes, I like that. And hopefully I’ll get a chance to thank you properly,” he smirked, devilish.

       “That too,” Cullen shyly smiled rubbing his shoulder.

       “There’s one thing Solas didn’t mark as forbidden, by the way.”

       “Oh?,” the man distractedly wondered as he made Allen’s old chest scars visible again, his space suddenly taken by the rogue as he pulled closer to kiss his lips gently, but also with urgency, and Cullen instantly gave him, tenderly stroking his soaked skin, inevitably giggling when he felt Allen’s hand move down his back to his bottom. “Hands inside the tub, your Worship, or I’m calling Solas.”

       “Wow, I see that Orlesian loving book gave you ideas,” he joked, both sharing a complicit laughter. “I feel terrible for not rubbing your back back… back, but I fear you’d come out of this tub even dirtier. I already feel like I need another bath.”

       “Whatever they used to treat your wounds was effective, but it sure was hard to remove. We are done, though.”

       Allen happily got out of the now dirty tub and Cullen couldn’t hide his smile at his sight. Clean, with a grin on his face, only the scars that the Commander was learning by memory, that was the man he loved and he remembered. He helped him dry thoroughly to avoid him getting a cold and helped him into some proper warm clothing. The only thing left was combing his hair back, and Allen visibly blushed when Cullen did so, very focused and quite proficient at it. Again to the Commander’s surprise, Trevelyan looked for their lips to merge, and again he gave into him, embracing him as he told him how much he loved him in a language that wasn’t spoken.

       “You should go to the celebration and eat something,” Allen said then. “You have been here all evening.”

       “And I plan on staying. Would you like to go outside for a bit of air?”

       “I’d love to,” he smiled, taking his hand as they both left the hut and walked towards the cliff. To be cautious, Cullen covered the Inquisitor in his pelt and kept rubbing his arms to keep him warm.

       “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?”

       “It is now,” Cullen admitted, feeling as if those times he stood there to clear his mind had been ages ago and not hours.

       “Cully, there’s something I need to ask you, but I want you to promise you will answer honestly.” 

       “Of course.”

       “Well, it’s not a question really,” he sighed, slightly nervous. “But if what you told me is true and Vaehlen is out there, he’s my son. I have to find him.”

       “We will,” Cullen replied, confused.

       “What I mean to say is my life has changed, and I will understand if you decide not to follow along this path. You’ve done enough for me already, and I feel like I’ve tangled you enough in my problems.”

       Cullen took some seconds to think before answering. He understood the Inquisitor was asking him if he wanted to continue their romance now that he knew Allen had a son, and perhaps the Commander himself had been, and still was, avoiding the big question that led to, but despite that, it was simple for him.

       “Knowing about Vaehlen didn’t make me love you less, or not wanting to be with you anymore.”

       “But what happens when you wake up and realize all of this is real? That there’s a kid I need to raise and take care of?”

       “Then I help you,” he answered with such simplicity it made Allen softly chuckle, aware that Cullen didn’t see yet the big picture. “We’ll figure that out, like we’ve done so far.”

       “Right. But take time to think about this and what it does imply. If at any time you decide this is not the life you want...”

       Before he could finish, Cullen wrapped him in his arms.

       “I told you, I’m not letting you go.”

       Allen hugged him back and sank his head in the Commander’s neck.

       “Thank you, and sorry. For burdening you with all this, I mean. I shouldn’t have asked you to take care of everything if I had… died. It was unfair.”

       “Nonsense,” he replied. “You were dying, Maker’s breath. And it doesn’t matter anymore, because we will do it together. Now, let’s get you back inside, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

       The Inquisitor giggled and grabbed his hand again as they both walked back.

       “I love how protecting you are from the cold. Just like that time, when you wouldn’t let me return to my quarters.”

       “It  _ was _ very cold, and my tower was warm,” Cullen smiled as that memory sparked bright in his mind, a thought he’d returned to all those nights alone.

       “We slept together for the first time, or second if we consider that one at the tavern.”

       “Maker, no, we don’t talk about that,” the Commander laughed, closing the door behind him. “I rather keep thinking it was that other night, when I held you in my arms for the first time and there wasn’t anything else apart from us and the sky.”

       “Then I say we call it that way,” Allen smiled. “This isn’t exactly your tower and we don’t have an opening in the ceiling, but if you’d like to stay for the night, just like that one, and catch up...”

       “I’ll keep you warm,” he smiled, tenderly. “We don’t want you to catch a cold.”

       “Good. You can tell me about what happened while I was here.”


	20. Chapter 20

       Cullen had no idea of how many ways there were to call a person irresponsible and insensible, but Leliana seemed quite eager to teach them all in a discourse that sounded more like a mother scolding a child than anything else, and although at first he had decided to just let it happen, he ended up replying and revolting while Josephine was left to sigh.

       “What did you expect me to do? Leave the Inquisitor to die?”

       “Consult us,” the rogue replied with a frown drawn between her brows. “That’s the last decision you ought to make on your own.”

       “He would have been in a pyre by the time a letter would’ve reached you. Is that what you’d want?”

       “Pure speculation!”

       “I don’t speculate with Allen’s life! I did what I did and I’d do it every time! Maker, I’d tear the sky open to save him!”

       “Now you sound like Corypheus!,” Leliana spat, but couldn’t say much more.

       “Watch it,  _ Nightingale _ ! You are the last person in this hold to judge anyone!,” Cullen growled, menacing. “Should we have this conversation every time you murder someone without letting us know?”

       “And now you are derailing!”

       “Hey!,” the Inquisitor’s voice broke in as he entered the War Room. “Back off, both of you!”

       “Allen!,” the Commander’s voice went from the aggressiveness of a fade wolf to the worryness of a lover. “You need to rest, you shouldn’t be here.”

       “I’m not going to stay away and let you take this,” he replied, upset. “It was my fault, it was me who put  _ Commander  _ Cullen in an impossible situation and he acted to the best of it. I owe him my life and this is the end of it, are we clear?”

       “Your Worship,” Leliana muttered, leaving afterwards.

       “I do want to say,” Josephine gently smiled at Allen, “that I’m happy you returned to us, mylord.”

       “So am I, Josie,” he replied, caringly, and then she left both men alone.

       “You didn’t have to intervene,” Cullen softly spoke, regrettably. “I’ll take all I have to, all that matters is that you are fine.”

       As he leant forward to kiss Trevelyan’s forehead, the rogue wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his head in his chest.

       “My hero in a shining armor,” he smiled, and so did the Fereldan. “And yet I’m tired of you being yelled at. I understand this is confusing for everyone and they are all quite sensitive, but you are the last person to deserve it.”

       “I really don’t care. I made a choice, I knew it could change the fate of the world, and I knew I would have to live up with the consequences. And I still did it, because I had faith, and not in the Maker, or Andraste, both of them forgive me. I had faith in you, and consequently in me,” Cullen drew Allen’s cheek with his fingertips. “You, on your own, have ended wars and gathered allies with a single choice, you’ve shown me a kind of strength that doesn’t come from the muscle, and you’ve reminded me I’m more than a broken Templar.”

       “You aren’t talking about the Ritual anymore,” Trevelyan recognized despite the waves of emotions the Commander had just sparked in him. And as a reply, he smiled.

       “I’m talking about everything,” his voice cracked, becoming a whisper. “You make my life better, and you made  _ me _ better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it as clearly before.”

       Allen closed his eyes and pulled him closer, hugging him so tight it was almost hard to breath.

       “It was you who did that, and you must forgive yourself,” he spoke, softly. “Remember, you brought me back, and also gave me hope.”

       Cullen grinned and kissed his hair as his arms gently stroked Allen’s back, promising an attempt for it.

       “I love you,” the man whispered. “More than ever.”

       “Me too,” the Commander breathed his smell and closed his eyes for a bit, enjoying the moment as much as he could. “I don’t want to work now.”

       “And I don’t want you to leave, but at least I can finally be yours again.”

       “Good, let’s meet later, yes? I got a habit of you, and I’m craving for your love.”

       The Inquisitor giggled and looked for his lips, the kiss they merged into tasting like eternity and calmness, re-lighting the flame within them with such strength it felt hard to try and push apart instead of pushing each other onto the War Table and forgetting about the world that surrounded them but meant so little when they had one another.

       “Can’t I take the day off?,” Cullen purred, kissing down Allen’s neck. “Can’t we get away from everything for a bit?”

       “If it were up to me, we’d be at that lake in Orlais right now,” Trevelyan chuckled, his hands clawed at the Commander’s shirt as if in an effort to stop himself from removing it. “Wine, fruit, freedom.”

       “Maker, what I’d give to simply play with your hair under the sun for a bit.”

       “Alright, I’m leaving now or I’m not answering for my actions.”

       Trevelyan did start to walk away, but their hands remained tangled, and pulling him back was extremely tempting, but he made the effort of resisting, partly due to his sense of responsibility and partly driven by a certain naughtyness.

       “That’s a threat I want you to fulfill, though,” Cullen lowly spoke, provokingly, as their hands stroked each other, fingers sliding over each other’s as they parted ways.

       “Just you wait. Until then I’ll be at the library searching for words to say “handsome”.”

       The Fereldan snorted and carelessly stared at Allen as he walked his way out, no longer thinking “there goes the Inquisitor,” but rather “there goes my man.” And he took some time before leaving himself to try and cool his head and control his smile to appear serious and professional as he always was.

 

       “I got you something to eat,” Cullen said as he closed the door of his office behind him.

       “If you are trying to butter me up for being this late you’ll have to do better than that,” Rylen joked, briefly lifting his eyes from a bunch of documents.

       “Leliana wanted to argue about my actions at the Basin,” the blonde man placed a tray with various sweet types on his desk and grabbed a report. Rylen had kept busy in his absence, but there was too much to do and the Ball at Halamshiral approached fast and inexorably. With an Empress’ life on the line, no preparations were enough, and work seemed to multiply in Skyhold. Not just for him, but for every advisor.

       “At the risk of her being spying on us,” the Free Marcher took a bite of one of the pastries, “she seems quite good at picking holes in everything. You did what you had to, lad: saved the day and got your pussy. Boy pussy!”

       “Maker’s breath, Rylen, eat and be quiet.”

       The man chuckled, throwing some sugar bits on his papers.

       “I mean it, though. Many would have doubted. And speaking of, the Inquisitor and you are back on good terms.”

       “We are, yes.”

       “Wasn’t asking,” he smirked. “Your face says it all.”

       “Those documents won’t read themselves,” Cullen coughed, blushing.

       “Mhmm,” the Marcher grinned, turning the page.

       “Are these the reports from the Winter Palace?”

       Rylen looked over and nodded.

       “Yes, and they are very useful for us. There are plenty of places were we can move our people in. Unfortunately, it also means whoever is after the Empress won’t have it hard either, but one thing at a time.”

       Cullen reviewed the well detailed letters from Leliana’s agents and took notes to later on plan a strategy over a map of the Winter Palace. And yet they had nothing to really prevent the strike, for they didn’t know who or what they were facing. Finding out would be up to the Inquisitor, as per usual, but at least on this occasion he’d be by his side. Once more, both of them surrounded by the hungry lions of the Game while a clock ticked the moments left to stop a murder. Perhaps after Corypheus was defeated they could make it a profession.

       “I don’t think we can do anything else here,” Rylen spoke, taking a last look at the maps and the notes.

       “We’ve been on this for hours, let’s leave it here and let the others add to it.”

       The Second in Command stretched his arms and yawned, then rested back on Cullen’s chair.

       “So, ain’t about time you go see your Inquisitor?”

       “You seem very interested in our relationship.”

       “Well, it was unexpected. And it’s done good to you. You seem less stiff.”

       Cullen sat on his desk and sighed dreamily.

       “Unexpected is one way to describe it. I’ve never had these many plans for the future.”

       “Future?,” Rylen’s eyebrows jumped slightly, then chuckled. “Then you are serious about this. I did think so, particularly after hearing about the Inquisitor’s boy.”

       “How do you mean?”

       “Something like that makes lots of people step back, but not you. Not like you seem scared about parenting a child, anyways.”

       His heart skipped a beat and Cullen blinked twice. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t indirectly thought about it, but hearing the specific words from another mouth managed to make him nervous. It was an easy sum, though, and the result provoked a few different feelings in him, some being anxiety and terror even, and others being curiosity and perhaps eagerness to meet this young man. Rylen, who noticed his flinching, smiled tenderly and softly punched his arm.

       “You’ll do fine. Just leave already.”

 

       The Inquisitor had asked one of the guards to inform Cullen that he’d be at the eastern tower with dinner once he finished his work, so the Commander headed that way, with the sun already hidden behind the mountains and the stars coming to life. The Fereldan climbed the ladder up the building and found Allen sitting at the top, staring at the sky with a basket next to him. Cullen sat behind him and cuddled his lover, kissing him on the cheek as he breathed his perfume.

       “Hey, lemon cake,” Trevelyan giggled, sinking in his lover’s embrace. “I hope you are hungry.”

       “I am,” he replied, feverishly kissing on his neck as a beast feasting on it’s prey.

       “Easy, lion, I’m the dessert,” Allen hummed in between giggles and soft moans. Cullen growled in his ear, and held him tight as the Inquisitor opened the basket, providing him with some meaty goods they both devoured.

       “How was your day?,” Trevelyan asked.

       “There was some shouting from Leliana and a pile of reports that felt as loud in my head, aside from that it was fine. I’ve been thinking about us the whole day, to be honest.”

       “Feel like sharing?,” the man rested his head on Cullen’s shoulder and he tightened his embrace.

       “Just silly stuff,” he giggled, cheeks going red. “Daydreaming, really. You and I at the lake, you playing the lute for me, a muddy hut...”

       “You know, there’s a lake at the Hinterlands, and by it’s shore a hut. How I’d wish we could be there.”

       Cullen smiled and kissed his hair, picturing it for a bit before talking again.

       “Do you think Vaehlen would like it there?”

       “Yeah, he’d love it, specially with Flynn around.”

       “Flynn?”

       “Oh, he’s my fox. Or “mine”,” he replied, emphasising.

       “You have a fox?”

       “Not exactly. I found it as a cub, wounded. He’d been abandoned by his pack, it was a terrible storm, so I healed him and sheltered him. Flynn has been with me ever since, and am I glad I decided not to bring him to the Conclave...”

       “He can come to the hut too,” the Commander giggled. “Allen, tell me more about Vaehlen.”

       Trevelyan took a few seconds to think about it, and his lover also felt some surprise in him.

       “Well, he is five years old and he is terribly smart, but he is also quite noble and kind. He… he’s a mage, like his mother, and just like her he shares some elven features. They say they are supposed to disappear as he grows up, but I wish they wouldn’t. They just make him so adorable when he laughs. Seriously, his smile can brighten your day in a split second. I miss him, Cullen. I miss him so much.”

       He buried his face in the Commander’s chest, but he could still feel his struggle to keep from breaking down. Cullen could feel that pain as his own, and he wished with his whole heart he could ease it then and there, but there wasn’t much he could do to help.

       “You’ll see him again, and soon,” he whispered, pressing his lips against his temple. “Besides, he can’t be too far. He’s probably watching the same stars we are.”

       “I’ve been making wishes on them,” Allen admitted. “Asking them to guide us back together.”

       “I should make a wish too, then.”

       “So?,” Trevelyan asked a bit later. “What did you wish for?”

       Cullen stared into the stars and smiled sincerely.

       “I asked them to grant you your wish. They will have to listen now, won’t they?”

       Allen’s eyes trembled and shone before leaning forward to kiss the Commander’s lips, but not even like that could he stop the tears from falling.

       “I love you,” he mumbled, then left out a bittersweet chuckle as they cuddled. “I really love you.”

       “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry,” Cullen apologized, soothing him with comforting caresses.

       “It’s fine, more than fine. Definitively they will have to listen, and we’ll find him. He is going to love you.”

       They both remained on the tower top for a while, hugged, staring into a sky full of stars that filled with hope the emptiest hearts.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Lots of sexual content  
> Special thanks to Whiskey for keeping me from quitting and helping me through it <3

           Cullen’s tower felt like heaven that night. Rylen had taken care of turning on the heater and upon returning, the Inquisitor and the Commander were met by the glorious warmth and smell of burning wood. On the desk, the men found a piece of paper with a message that read “Have fun.”

           “He’s got nice penmanship,” Allen chuckled, enjoying the sigh of Cullen’s blushing cheeks.

           “I might check in case he’s hidden somewhere,” he joked, nonetheless. “Would you like some wine?”

           “Sure, thank you.”

           The Commander filled two goblets and gave one to his lover, who rested against the border of the desk. Cullen sat on his chair, right in front of him, unconsciously letting out a tired sigh.

           “You sound exhausted. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

           “A bit,” he nodded. “But I’m fine. More than fine.”

           Allen took a sip and smiled at him with his eyes, causing Cullen’s lips to curve.

           “Why are you looking at me like that?,” he giggled.

           “Because I like you, and I enjoy looking at you.”

           “You do?”

           “What do you mean “you do”? You are my Knight-Prince with the shinning armor! Staring at you is my guilty pleasure, especially when you smile.”

           “I love your smile, too,” Cullen admitted, blushed but confident. “I always did. At first I thought it was the comfort and hope you gave off as the Herald of Andraste, as an icon. But the truth is those feelings have their core elsewhere. Here.”

           He placed his hand on his heart and smiled at Allen with sincerity.

           “It’s so personal now that… Do you believe people can connect? As in, some sort of invisible link between them. Like… magic.”

           “I do. Magic does exist, and I’m convinced it exists between us.”

           “Maybe. And maybe that magic will keep us together and through this.”

           “Are you afraid?,” Allen asked, leaving his goblet aside. The Commander stood up and left his on the table too, getting closer to the Inquisitor and cornering him.

           “I won’t let anything put as apart.”

           “You proved that,” he grinned, half closing his eyes as Cullen came closer. “And I intend on proving you the same.”

           Cullen’s lips took those words and soon Allen’s hands accompanied the kiss by lovingly messing the Commander’s hair.

           “I crave for you,” Cullen whispered, pressing them as close as they could. “You’ve become such an important part of my life I need to feel you, physically and emotionally.”

           “I’m yours, Cullen. That scared man who doubted in the barracks is long gone. You chased him away, and now I’m more yours than I’ve ever been of anyone.,” suddenly, Allen chuckled. “I’m so yours I can’t almost stand this.”

           “This?,” the Fereldan coyly laughed, not catching the direction of his lover’s words.

           “Your restraint. Have me, take me. Give into us like never before.”

           “I’m… I’ll try,” Cullen answered, slightly nervous. “I’m a bit scared of being pushy or...”

           Allen silenced him by placing a finger on his lips, then grinning.

           “If you are ever pushy, I’ll have you know, and so will you if I ever am. We are mature enough to speak for ourselves and not cause any problems, aren’t we?”

           “I apologize,” he smiled. “You are a bit intimidating in that aspect… Not scary, not like that, but as in… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

           “That’s what I mean. You need to get rid of such preoccupations and enjoy. I love you, I’m not here to judge you in any aspect, for some fun or any bullshit like that. I’m here because I feel like I can be myself with you, because we are each other’s refuge. And I know you are not there yet, especially in these matters,” Allen’s hand travelled down Cullen’s face, stopping at his chin. “It’s my duty, as your lover, to help you reach that confidence.”

           “Hearing this does.”

           “You are really sexy, Cullen. Your touch and your presence are so sweet and caring it makes each contact unforgettable. The way your lips feel on any part of my skin sets me ablaze, your stare removes everything else around me, your scent calms all of my muscles, and when I’m in your arms I feel I own the world.”

           The Fereldan grabbed his vest to pull him closer and took a deep breath, filled with an impulse of stripping Allen down and making him go through all of those feelings.

           “Keep talking,” he said, nonetheless, both to hear more and tease Allen a bit, since he had felt him tense up in anticipation with his sudden reaction.

           “Well… you are quite sexy physically too. Your hair… your eyes and lips… your stubble… that damn scar I’d kiss all day,” at this Cullen giggled, making it curve. “See? I love it when you smile. And then there’s your muscles.”

           “You like my muscles?,” he kept teasing.

           “Quite… I always feel there’s too much cloth in that body.”

           “Do you want me to take off my shirt?,” his smile turned devilish, basking in the discovery of how attractive Allen found him, something he haven’t given that deep of a thought, and how arousing it was for him at the same time.

           “Yes, please,” Trevelyan answered with a slight blush.

           Cullen did so, throwing his blouse aside and flexing a bit, Allen reacting with a deep breath and leaving back, visibly enjoying the sight.

           “Hmm, I love strong and powerful men.”

           “So that’s why you sit in the courtyard and watch me train, right?,” the Commander whispered suggestively, getting close to him again, nuzzling his neck, savouring his scent as he kissed his way below his jaw.

           “I’m… starting to think you’ve switched roles here,” Allen almost giggled, interrupted by a soft moan when Cullen breathed into his ear.

           “And I’m starting to think that what you really wanted was to be dominated today,” he smiled and moved to see his lover’s face, painted with surprise. “You know, you could have asked,” he grinned, playfully biting his lower lip.

           “Hey, my intentions were pure…,” he chuckled, blushing as Cullen had never seen before, so distracted by the Commander’s bite he began to stutter. “I meant what I said… one doesn’t take the other...”

           Cullen hooked one of Allen’s vest buckles with his finger and pulled to undo it, revealing a bit of skin.

           “I’m not sure I believe you,” he teased, running his finger down his skin until he stopped in the next buckle. “I think this is something you’ve wanted for a long time… Right?”

           He undid it too, and more of Allen’s chest came to display, making the rise of the intensity in his breath far more noticeable.

           “Yes,” he confessed with a guilty tone.

           “What exactly?,” Cullen wondered, moving to the next, but not yet unclasping it.

           “Y… you bending me over your desk… talking to me like you talk to your soldiers.”

           The Commander unbuttoned it as if it were a reward for answering correctly, and that clearly excited the Inquisitor, whose skin was already burning hot and blushed, with the compass of accelerated heartbeats and panting, and a growing pressure against Cullen’s leg. At the same time, Cullen found it extremely arousing. He felt truly sexy and desired, and as Allen became more and more submissive he went deeper into the opposite role, creating a much more fun game than he would have ever anticipated. He leant forward as his finger went down to the next and last buckle and licked his lover’s ear.

           “You want me to boss you around?”

           “Yes.”

           “Yes, what?”

           “Yes, Commander.”

           At last, Cullen fully opened his vest and removed it as he licked Allen’s jawline, who moaned in anticipation. The Fereldan’s hands traveled down the Inquisitor’s naked torso, then up, stopping to play with his nipples. His mouth moved relentlessly, leaving a love bite in the space between Trevelyan’s shoulder and neck.

           “You haven’t touched me yet,” the Commander observed as he bit his lower lip scarce centimeters away from Allen’s mouth. “I thought you liked my muscles.”

           The Inquisitor placed his hands on Cullen’s bare chest and slowly moved around caressing every muscle with delicate care. The Commander’s went down to feel Allen’s inner thighs, travelling up until he found his erection, hot and hard under his trousers. Before the man could moan at his touch, Cullen claimed his mouth with a possessive need, using a hand to hold his chin while the other one stroked his throbbing sex. Trevelyan melted into the kiss, giving into Cullen’s tongue dance against his, panting hard when the Commander broke contact.

           “Tie me.”

           Cullen blinked twice, the mental image of Allen’s proposal making his erection throb hard in his trousers.

           “Turn around,” he commanded right into his ear, pressing his pelvis against the Inquisitor’s bottom when he obeyed, rubbing them together as he searched for something that could serve to tie Allen’s hands in his desk drawer. Eventually, he found a piece of cloth, which he wrapped around the Inquisitor’s wrists, whose hands were already behind his back. As Cullen finished the knot, he went kissing his skin all the way up his nape, around his neck and stopping close to Allen’s ear. “Is that too tight?”

           “Not enough.”

           Cullen pulled the cloth’s ends and the Inquisitor playfully moaned as an approving reply, drawing a flirty smile in the Commander’s lips.

           “You are all mine now,” he whispered as his hands moved to explore his lover’s skin, stroking his chest and his abdomen, letting his fingertips tease around his nipple as his other hand went inside Allen’s trousers. “Look at me.”

           The Inquisitor turned his head and Cullen locked their stares with such intensity Trevelyan couldn’t look away, and as he helplessly panted at the Fereldan touching his member under his clothes, the Commander sank deeper into his eyes, searching for the pleasure in them.

           “You have the most beautiful eyes in Thedas,” his curious hand didn’t stop at Allen’s shaft and massaged his sack, moving then to sneak a finger between his cheeks and press on his hole. Allen groaned as he spread his legs a bit, half closing his eyes as his manhood throbbed against Cullen’s arm. Him giving himself with so much trust to the Commander felt highly arousing and empowering, but it also gave him a huge sense of responsibility to which he tried to hold onto to avoid getting lost into lust and passion and crossing the lines that weren’t drawn.

           “Kiss me, Commander,” the Inquisitor pleaded. Cullen removed his hand from Allen’s trousers and held his jaw close to his.

           “You will have to earn that,” he softly said, giving him a devilish smile. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I have favourites among my men.”

           “I want to be your favourite.”

           “Alright,” Cullen chuckled, grabbing his hip to make Allen turn and face him. “Let’s test your lips. Get on your knees.”

           “Yes, Commander,” he obediently replied as he positioned himself right at his lover’s feet, looking up with extreme anticipation. The sound of Cullen’s belt buckle as it became undone was evidently arousing for Allen, but so it was for him. He unbuttoned his trousers and released only his shaft, which hanged hard and ready centimeters away from Trevelyan’s face. The Inquisitor licked his lips and Cullen felt his breath caressing his most sensitive skin as his lover felt his scent, his hands twitching slightly behind his back. He wanted to touch it, so the Commander did it for him, slowly pulling his foreskin back and forth.

           “Don’t get shy now,” he softly spoke, and Allen planted a kiss on his glans. “Not those. I like kisses with tongue.”

           The Inquisitor nodded and wrapped his lips around the head, stroking it with his tongue as he looked up at Cullen, looking for his approval. The Commander moaned and smiled at him as he pulled out of his mouth, leaving a thin trail of saliva to his lover’s lips.

           “That’s better,” the Fereldan rubbed his glans against Trevelyan’s lips, drawing circles around them. He loved the feeling of Allen’s hot and increasing breathing against his erection and the fact that he was holding back his tongue. It was pushing him to be even more naughty, and the idea of finishing the night in his lover’s mouth formed in his mind, yet he tried to push that thought aside, at least for the moment. “I want to see what else your mouth can do.”

           Before Allen could close his lips around him, Cullen stepped back and got rid of his trousers, then sat on his chair right in front of his lover. He was about to ask him to get closer when he noticed the way Trevelyan looked at him, obedient, aroused and almost hypnotized by him and his member. His eyes ran up and down his body screaming how much he desired his Commander, and Cullen was loving that. And being aware that Allen loved the teasing, he decided to give him a bunch of his own medicine, and began touching himself in front of him. He expected it to feel awkward, but he came to realize they had built a comfortable enough zone to fool around and even feel sexy about it. And sometimes like that one, when Allen looked at him like that he felt like a god.

           “I love the way you look at me,” he confessed.

           “And I love the way you look when you do that, Commander,” Allen replied as he swallowed, nervously.

           “Do you like watching me please myself?”

           “Very much so. Especially when you do it staring at me.”

           Cullen’s erection throbbed, and he felt the need to untie him and let him touch all of his body. But he could see that was something Trevelyan wanted, desired, so he used that against him and as a hand jerked his manhood, the other moved to caress his muscles, from his abs to his chest. It drove Allen crazy, and Cullen didn’t even need to look at his trousers to notice. The way he panted and licked his lips, and the movement of his arms suggested he was struggling to remain tied and kneel instead of being the Commander’s hands.

           “You are so beautiful,” Cullen kept teasing. “I like to imagine your lips all over my body.”

           “Is that an order, Commander?”

           “No,” he spoke with dramatic seriousness. “If you want me to kiss you you will follow my directions”

           “Yes, Commander.”

           “Good boy. Come a bit closer.”

           When he did, Cullen leant forward and gently pressed two fingers against his lover’s lips, who gladly let them in to suckle on them. When the fereldan deemed them wet enough, he pulled back and got comfortable on his chair, spreading his legs to make room for those fingers to slide between his cheeks. He left his sex alone and used his free hand to play with his nipple. He had never really payed attention to those parts of his body before. In fact, he had lost much of his sexual appetite and only occasionally rubbed one off to relieve stress. With Allen, that desired was flourishing immensely. His curiosity kept growing day by day and he wanted to experiment, not just with his partner, but with himself too. And even if his fingers or his caresses didn’t feel like his lover, it was still pleasing and satisfactory. Allen seemed to agree, since he could see the hunger in his eyes, and some suffering of being doomed to be a mere spectator. Considering he had teased him enough, he decided to let him take part.

           “My hands are busy,” Cullen spoke as he kept stimulating his nipple and his entrance. “Convince me your mouth is good enough to kiss you.”

           “Yes, Commander,” Allen replied, eager, leaning forth to nuzzle his lover’s sack, licking, sucking, feeling it’s scent. The fereldan moved his hand from his chest to his erection and held it against Trevelyan’s face. There was some narcissism in the delight of that scene, but he couldn’t help but love the way Trevelyan stared at him while he did wonders with his mouth. He filled the room with moans as his lover’s tongue went up his shaft to later on start to suck on it with almost furious passion and desire. If of anything, Cullen could be sure he had succeeded in turning the Inquisitor on, practically ablaze.

           “You are rather convincing,” he groaned. “You might earn more than a kiss.”

           Allen turned those words into an incentive and went down relentlessly on Cullen’s manhood, taking him whole into his throat, which made the Commander scream of pleasure. To him that was a talent of his lover. It felt warm and soft in his mouth, and the sounds the Inquisitor made were so sexual he found himself almost finishing in it, but Trevelyan knew when to pull back, and as soon as he did Cullen helped him stand up and gave him the so promised kiss. It didn’t come out romantic, but wild, wet and naughty, this time being the Commander the one to show how good he was with his tongue. Allen panted and moaned in his mouth, taking the chance to feel Cullen’s body by rubbing against him. Without a word, the fereldan broke the kiss and unbuttoned Trevelyan’s trousers, releasing his erection. The man moaned, relieved at last of the tightness of his pants.

           “Is this because of me?,” Cullen asked as he stroked him.

           “Yes, Commander,” Allen softly gasped.

           “It’s wet,” he commented, using his thumb to rub his glans and make the Inquisitor moan and shiver. “Bend over the desk.”

           He sucked his thumb as a last tease and then pushed Allen, always gently, until his chest was resting on his table. His eyes traced his face, the muscles of his back, his tied hands and finally his bottom, which Trevelyan raised for him. Cullen crouched and pulled his trousers down to his ankles, then took the time to appreciate the Inquisitor’s attributes. He ran his eyes up his legs and his manhood, his now tight sack, then stopped to admire his buttcheeks, big, round and smooth. He placed his hands on them and Allen spreaded his legs to give him room, and in doing so Cullen got a glance of his hole, pink and soft, somehow appealing. Particularly after Trevelyan had given him so many delightful feelings through his, and now he was heavily considering returning that lovely favor. It sure felt intimidating, but Allen had done it to him, which meant he could too. Just like he took him in his bottom at Val Royeaux.

           Without any attempt to conceal his greed, the Commander massaged his lover’s cheeks, grabbing, kissing and even bitting.

           “You are definitely on your way to becoming my favourite,” Cullen chuckled.

           “I bet you tell that to everyone,” Allen teased, and his lover spanked him, making him moan.

           “I will not tolerate such insolence!,” the Commander spoke with pretended severity.

           “Because it’s true,” he protested, looking back at him, and Cullen spanked him again.

           “You are the only one.”

           “You lie.”

           Another spank, another moan, and both of their erections throbbing. A circle that repeated until the fereldan’s palm was printed red on the Inquisitor’s right buttcheek.

           “Then prove it, Commander,” the man dared him. He probably expected the man to take him at once, but Cullen took the chance to run his tongue between his crack, going past Allen’s entrance and provoking him to gasp with surprise and pleasure. And he didn’t have time to make a remark, since he found himself panting as his Advisor gave another and more thorough lick, and then more until Cullen’s hands were spreading his cheeks to let his tongue explore even more. The Inquisitor was shivering, whining and probably in shock, never expecting the Commander to go that far. He was moaning so loud Cullen was positive all of Skyhold was hearing him, and part of him hoped it was the case. “Oh, Maker.”

           The man kept making out with Allen’s butt with he same passion he did with his mouth, and only stopped when he heard the Inquisitor swear.

           “Watch your mouth,” he complained, slapping his left buttcheek.

           “Don’t stop, please.”

           “Yes, it’s enough of that,” Cullen grinned as he moved his mouth to work on the Inquisitor’s sack.

           “Fuck me, then,” he protested.

           “No.”

           “Cullen, please.”

           “It’s Commander for you. And no. I’m not done here.” He nuzzled his pouch, kissing, licking and sucking on it while his fingers ran along Trevelyan’s length, hard and soaked on the tip. “You are really excited.”

           He pressed his shaft back to face it and gave it a lick, followed by a quick but noisy suckle on the glans.

           “So, you believe you are the only one for me now?”

           “I do, Commander,” Allen moaned.

           “Good boy,” Cullen snuck two fingers inside his hole, making the Inquisitor groan and jump, using his other hand to reach a bottle of oil. He opened it with ability and spilled some over his erection, spreading it then at the same rhythm he fingered his lover, who now was calling for the Maker. He pulled his digits out to soak them in oil and went in again, adding a third. Cullen couldn’t wait to feel Allen throbbing around his member, so when he thought Trevelyan was well lubed,  he took his erection in his hand and prodded his lover’s pucker.

           “Put it in,” the Inquisitor urged, and this time the fereldan didn’t reply in the game, for he wanted it as much as him. He used his free hand to grab a cheek and spread it a bit. After some pressure and with the help of the oil, his head went in, making both lovers moan in pleasure and relief. Cullen gave Allen some time to get used to it, but also enjoyed his tightness and warmth wrapping around him. When he started to push in, slow but relentlessly, the Inquisitor began to move, impatient, trying to push his body back to take it all at once. The Commander had been thorough when oiling them up, so when he was halfway in he pressed harder until their bodies smacked together. He wasn’t expecting Trevelyan to groan so loud, let alone in a way he recognized so well by now, so his fingers went to check on his member to realize that he had, in fact, come.

           “Allen?,” Cullen asked, with a grin, as his lover was still moaning and panting. “I wasn’t even touching you.”

           Still inside of him, he leant forward to kiss his back.

           “You didn’t have to…,” Allen admitted, clearly embarrassed.

           “That’s really cute.”

           “Don’t get nice with me already. We are not done yet.”

           “Are you not?,” Cullen kept teasing, feeling Allen’s still erect manhood. “Though you are still excited.”

           “I admit this shade of confidence is appealing, Commander, but don’t get too cocky.”

           “Shall I remind you your place? You are the one tied down and with a man on and in you.”

           Allen gave him a satisfied smile and nodded.

           “Touché, Commander. Forgive me.”

           “Can I continue, then?”

           Not waiting for a reply, Cullen reincorporated himself, grabbed the cloth holding Allen’s wrists together, and began moving his hips with an increasing rhythm, filling the tower with pleasure moans, loud groans and a couple of curses to the Maker.

           “Harder!,” was almost the only thing Allen could say that was understandable in between his panting, and the Commander took his hips to do so, but the session and the teasing had been too intense, and he knew he wouldn’t last for much longer.

           “Allen,” he warned him, “I’m going to cum.”

           “I want to taste it, Commander,” he practically begged, and Cullen quickly pulled out, both shocked and pleased his initial thought would come to happen.

           “Are you sure?,” he asked, nonetheless, as he helped a shivering Inquisitor get on his knees. The way he replied was by opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out while locking his emerald eyes with his. With more confidence, he began to stroke his length as he looked at his man, tied, excited and eager to receive his seed. A loud whine finally announced it, his thick load shot at Allen’s mouth, but also reaching the rest of his face and part of his chest. Trevelyan obediently swallowed, then wrapped his lips around Cullen to take the last drops with his tongue. The Commander sighed and panted, exhausted but with the most satisfactory smile, one his lover shared.

           “Come here,” Cullen urged him as he helped him stand up and kissed him, gently releasing his hands.

           “Thank you,” Allen smiled in his lips.

           Using that same piece of cloth, the Commander cleaned the Inquisitor, then himself, both of them sitting on the couch afterwards, tired and naked, but happy.

           “I told you they were too tight,” Cullen commented as he massaged Trevelyan’s marked wrists.

           “It’s alright, sometimes I like things rough and hard,” he smiled, waving it off as he rested his head on his shoulder. The fereldan cuddled him and shook his head with a chuckle.

           “Who’d have thunk...”

           “And who’d have thunk you could get this dominant,” his lover teased.

           “You think me a softy?”

           “With the ones you love, yes,” Allen smiled, caressing his face. “It’s part of why I love you, and feel confident in doing so.”

           “Do you love with uncertainty?,” Cullen asked, with care of not sending a wrong message. “I mean, you were doubtful with me at first.”

           “I was. I didn’t want to hurt, or get hurt, or feel used again. Forgive me for dragging you with my insecurities, but I want you to know I have no doubts now, and I don’t regret anything. You are the man I want to be with.”

           Cullen kissed his forehead, grateful, but didn’t want to leave it at that yet.

           “I’m delighted to see you this bright and confident. But I can’t help but feel like there’s still a page from your story I don’t know about. A heartbreak, a wound still not closed, and it pains me to see it’s still affecting you.”

           “Unfortunately, you are right,” Allen sighed, cuddling tighter with Cullen.

           “Who caused you so much suffering? Who came before me and dared to fill you with such insecurities? Who was the one that took the hope out from you, and how could they break your faith? And why was I so late?”

           Trevelyan chuckled in a bittersweet way, kissing then Cullen’s cheek.

           “You were just in time, and to your question of who, the answer in simple, for the only person with the power to destroy me was the woman I was to marry and the mother of my son.”

           “Valyra?,” the man asked, surprised.

           “I caught her, cheating on me with my brother.”


End file.
